The Fault in His Stars
by Wallflower95
Summary: "The fault dear Brutus is not in our stars but in ourselves that we are underlings." The Fault in Our Stars told from Augustus's POV. Also some added scenes from my story 'Their Little Infinity.
1. Prologue

**Hi there! I am Wallflower95 and I am the author of Their Little Infinity (TFIOS), Anna's Infinity (TFIOS), Convergent (Divergent Trilogy), The Beauty That Remains (Doctor Who), The Phoenix: Origin Story (X-Men) and Here I Lie (Hunger Games). This will be my 7th fanfic story and my 3rd Fault in Our Stars story.**

**So at the moment I'm writing six fanfics and I wasn't going to publish this one for a while but I've been working on it for a bit and making edits here and there and you know I really wanted to share it with everyone. It'll be crazy busy writing all these fanifcs but you know what I don't really mind:)**

**Yes I am a huge fan of tfios and I just thought we know Hazel's side of the story and thanks to tfioschangedmylife (author of The Fault in Their Stars) we know Isaac's side of the story. What about that crooked smiled metaphor smoking boy we fell in love with inside the Literal Heart of Jesus? The one and only Augustus Waters:)**

**This is The Fault in Our Stars told from Gus's pov. There will be some new scenes. If you've read my story Their Little Infinity then you'll know about them. Also there is a prologue featuring Caroline Mathers (Gus's old girlfriend). Hope you like it! Please comment and review. I'd really appreciate all you feedback.**

**Okay?**

**~Wallflower95**

* * *

**Prologue**

I wish this could be a happy story. A story about a guy who gets the girl and they fall in love and everyone is happy. Then again that sounds like a corny chick flick so let's rewind. I wish this could be like my favorite video game, Counterinsurgence. A story of honor, heroism and sacrifice. About leaving a mark in the world. But that is not the case. You see, the world is not exactly a wish granting factory. It's a lesson that I was soon about to learn. Who am I? My name is Augustus Waters and this is my story.

I will spare you the gory and kind of pathetic details of my sad little cancer miracle. They found it a few months ago. Told me it was Osteosarcoma. It's about unpleasant as it sounds. It all started with that pain in my leg. Luckily, the doctors at the memorial hospital had a plan to get rid of my cancer. How you may ask? By chopping off my leg. Yep. I had to get my leg amputated. So yes it sucks that I have to go through that and lose a leg but the doctors kept telling me I had a 90% chance of recovery afterward (10% being if the cancer liked me it would come back and take the rest of me). My chance were pretty high and my number looked good but hey it's better to be safe then sorry. When they diagnosed me (I had just turned sixteen at the time). I looked at my dad and asked him.

"Can we go look at suits?" So my dad drove me to the store and we bought this really nice black suit. In other words, my death suit. Then I asked my parents if I could pick a place to buried if I ended up in the nasty 10% group. I don't think my parents understood my reason for doing all this. I'm not even sure I understood what I was doing. All I knew was that I want to be prepared. Just in case.

I am now at my school. North Central High School in wonderful Indianna. I was alone. Just shooting some hoops. Yes I play basketball and yeah I'm not bad. Today is my last day of dual leggedness. I was just about to shoot another hoop when I paused.

_This is so stupid._ I thought. I may be good at basketball but it doesn't mean I have to like it. I never really did like it. I just did it because... well. Just cause. I also think it's stupid to be shooting a circular object through a toroidal object. Like, how stupid is that? Why am I doing this on my last day with two legs? I sighed and threw the basketball away. I heard my phone ring from within my bag and I knew it was time. I grabbed my bag. My parents were waiting for me outside of school. I looked down at my legs. I would sure missing seeing two legs down there.

"Nice knowing you rightie." I said. And I got into the car that would take me to the dreaded surgery.

* * *

It's been a week since the surgery. I was officially NEC (No evidence of cancer) huzzah! Yes I had to lose a leg in the process but you know what? I'm here and I still get another shot in life. I have a new philosophy in life now. You have to live it and make the world remember you. You have to leave your mark in the world and that is what I was going to do. I was just sitting in bed. Watching The Matrix. My bed is right next to the window and my view from the window is this little playground the hospital has. Since I woke up I've looked outside every day to see if kids were out there playing on it but it was always empty. Today I looked out there and to my surprise there was someone out there on the swing. I lifted my head up and leaned forwards a bit. It was a girl. I couldn't tell how old as her back was facing me. She had dark long hair and she was wearing shoes, a hospital gown and a light purple housecoat. She just sat there on the swing. She swung forwards and backwards slowly. I looked at her curiously.

Jenna, my nurse came in to check my vitals. I pointed outside.

"Do you know who that is?" I asked. Jenna looked outside and shrugged her shoulders.

"Not sure hun." She said and she took my temperature. I looked at her and showed her my famous crooked smile.

"Can you please find out Jenna?" I like Jenna. She's probably the only nurse I've ever really liked. She's quite young. About twenty-two with orange hair and bright blue, kind eyes. She was slightly bigger but it really suited her. She tried hard not to smile.

"I have to check you vitals Augustus." She said. She was trying hard not to give in.

"Pretty please with a cherry on top?" She broke out in a smile and laughed.

"Oh fine you got me." She said. She made a few notes on her clipboard and then took a peek outside. The girl was still out there on the swing. All alone. Jenna turned back to me.

"You owe me big time Waters." She said with a smile.

"You're the best Jenna!" I called out as she walked out the door.

"You know it!" She called back. I leaned back and smiled. My parents were working so I was spending the night at the hospital on my own. Every few hours someone would come in to check up on me. Jenna didn't come until the next day in the afternoon. I heard a knock at the door and I saw Jenna.

"Augustus, I believe you wanted to see this young lady." Behind Jenna was the girl from the swing set. She was about my age with long dark hair and brown eyes. She had smooth olive colored skin. She kind of looked italian to me. I put on my charming crooked smile.

"Please, sit." The girl looked at Jenna and then sat down in the chair next to my bed. She was really pretty. No she was gorgeous. Jenna smiled at the two of us and then she left the room.

"I'm Augustus Waters." I said, introducing myself. I held out my hand towards her. She frowned at it. I put it down.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Caroline. Caroline Mathers." She said.

"What's your full name?" She frowned at me but said it anyway.

"Caroline Ann Mathers." She said.

"Nice to meet you Caroline Ann." I said. She smiled at me and right then and there things started to change for me.

* * *

Sometimes things aren't meant to be. While I was better and recovering, Caroline would always sick. I soon learned she had a cancerous brain tumor and the doctors didn't give her long to live. A week after we had met, we were both released from the hospital and we spent every minute together. She was smart and funny and beautiful. Two weeks after hospital release she asked me to go too her house for dinner.

"What should I wear?" I asked over the phone. Caroline laughed on the other end.

"Wear whatever you want." She said.

"But what if I choose something your parents hate and then they throw me out for wearing a stupid outfit or something." I said. Caroline laughed.

"Fine wear a duck costume." She said.

"Ha ha very funny."

"Seriously wear whatever you're comfortable in. I'll see you in a bit." In the end I decided to go with a red and white but down plaid shirt with dark jeans and my black converse shoes. Caroline's house wasn't too far from mine so I walked. Before going to their house I dropped by the drug store to get some flowers. When I knocked on the door it was answered by a little boy who looked just like Caroline.

"Caroline! Your boyfriend is here!" He yelled and then he ran into the house. Caroline came to the door. She was wearing an orange dress with a small brown sweater. Her black hair was tied up in a loose braid.

"Hey." I breathed out. She smiled.

"Hey you." She said. I stepped inside. It hasn't been established that we were boyfriend and girlfriend yet. Yes we've spent every day together since getting out of the hospital but we haven't kissed or anything yet. She took my hand and lead me into the kitchen.

"Mom, dad this is Augustus Waters." Mr. and Mrs. Mathers were super nice. Mrs. Mathers had the same dark hair, brown eyes and olive complexion as her daughter. Caroline's brother jumped around me.

"Who are you? Who are you? Who are you?" He asked.

"I'm Augustus. Who are you?" I asked.

"I'm Tim." He said. I smiled down at him.

"Hey that's a pretty cool car you got there." I said, pointing at the yellow camaro in his hand. He lifted it up fr me to see.

"It's a transformer. Watch." He played around with it until he turned it into Bumblebee from Transformers. I laughed.

"That's pretty cool." Tim smiled at me. It was nice dinner. Caroline's parents asked me about school and about my health. Usually I didn't like to share details about my cancerous past as it is done and over with. Why couldn't I just forget about it? Would cancer be a part of my life now? Once the dishes were cleared Caroline took my hand.

"We're gonna go too my room now." She said without waiting for an answer. She lead me upstairs. The voice of her family disappeared and we went into her room. She closed the door and turned on the light. It was pretty simple. A bed, desk and chair, bookcase and a closet. There was a bulletin board on the wall with pictures of her and her friends. I looked at them.

"I should be up there." I said with a smile, pointed to the bulletin board. Caroline walked over.

"Hmm yeah I guess I should put you on there." She said. She stepped closer. She smelled nice. Like lavender. I smiled down at her. I took her hand and laced my fingers through hers. She smiled. I've always thought that the spaces in between you fingers were created so another could fill them. Sounds corny yes but it's so true. Caroline stood up on her toe and I leaned down a little so our lips touched. It was nice and slow. Our eyes closed. She reached for my neck and I pulled her closer. She smiled against my lip and I picked her up. She laughed.

* * *

We had a real relationship going on for a while. It was always me and Caroline. We saw each other every day. Of course, things always get in the way of happiness. There is no cure for Caroline's cancer. It's a tumor. There was nothing to be done. She got worse. They started chemo and radiation but it didn't work. Caroline lost her hair and they tried a few surgeries before finally giving up. I sat next to her on the hospital bed. Stroking her bald head. My hand touching the scar on her head.

"Will you still love me when I'm gone?" She whispered. I leaned down and kissed her on top of her head.

"Always and forever." I said. That was the last day Caroline was Caroline. The tumor got worse. The doctors at memorial refer to Caroline's tumor as the 'asshole' tumor. Basically it turns you into a monster. She got moody and got pissed of very easily. Sometimes she'd scream at me even. I eventually started referring to her as 'Hulk Smash'. We were sitting outside on the swings set in front of the hospital. The very same swing set I first saw Caroline Mathers on. We were just sitting there quietly when she started laughing hysterically. She pointed down at me leg.

"What?" I asked.

"Hello stumpy." She said. I rolled my eyes but then smiled. I've heard that joke over and over again for the past few months. It was seriously getting old.

"Yep I'm stumpy." I said.

"Augustus has great legs." She said and then she laughed out loud.

"I mean leg." She laughed like a maniac. Months went by and she just got worse and worse and I dealt with it. I wanted to go but how in the world can you dump a dying girl? That's just so wrong. Plus I really like her family and I know they like me so I couldn't do that to them. It took a long time. Everyone suffered. It was a long and slow process. On that very day, I sat beside her hospital bed. She had been a unconscious for a few hours. Her eyes slowly opened. She was no longer the fit and beautiful girl I once knew. She lay there, pale and smile. Dark shadows were under her eyes. She was breathing heavily. She looked at me, her eyelids threatening to close but she managed to keep them open.

"Hey you." She whispered. I smiled at her and held her hand.

"Hey." I whispered. And she just looked at me and I looked at her and then her eyes closed and her hand went limp and I knew she was gone. Of course my girlfriend's death upset me. I didn't come out of my room for three days. And then I had to go too her funeral. It was depressing as hell but you know what? I'm glad she finally let go. It was painful for me and her family to watch her suffer and I'm sure it was the same for her. You can't always hold on to things in life. Eventually you have to move on. And that is what I had to do.

* * *

**Hope you all liked that! please comment and review guys. i would love to hear all feedback:)**

**~Wallflower95**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone!:) Thank you so much for commenting all your reviews mean the world to me. Hope you all like the chapter! Please comment and review again. Thanks guys.**

**~Wallflower95**

* * *

**1**

**10 months later...**

People who've had a brush with death usually go on in life with a bucket list in their hands. They say they need it in case death stares them in the eyes again. Me? After my near death experience I do the greatest of all things. Sleep in until 3pm in the afternoon on a Wednesday. Yes I want to be remembered and make leave my mark in the world but hey everyone needs to sleep in and be a lazy ass once in a while. I probably wouldn't have woken up if it hadn't been for my friend Isaac. My phone started singing my favorite video game theme song. I groaned and snatched my phone from my bedside table.

"Hello?" I grumbled. An air horn went off on the other end. I nearly fell out of bed.

"Jesus christ. What the hell?" I said.

"You shouldn't say all those words in the same paragraph." Isaac said. I groaned.

"Yeah well my friend shouldn't set an air horn off in my ear." I said.

"Noted for the future." Isaac said.

"What's up?"

"It's support group today. In three hours." Are you still coming?" Isaac asked. I groaned.

"Right. Yeah man I'll be there." I said. See, my friend Isaac was diagnosed with this extremely unheard of eye cancer. One eyes was take out a while back but now he has relapsed and it has put his remaining eyes in absolute peril. That's the thing about cancer. It keeps coming back until there's nothing left.

"Good." Isaac said sounding pleased with himself. Isaac has been trying to get me to with him to this cancer support group for weeks. I didn't understand why he subjected himself to the torture. Support is not supportive at all. It's a depressing group of people with the killing disease and the only thing they all had in common was that they were all just waiting until cancer came back for them. But Isaac wanted me to go and I'm a good friend so I said I'd go.

"Okay dude. I'll see you in a bit." I said.

"Lates." Isaac said. I stopped.

"Really? Did you really just say that?"

"Too much?" Isaac asked.

"Little bit."

"Okay. See ya." And he hung up. I shook my head. That kid.

* * *

At 5:20pm I came out of my room with an unlit cigarette hanging from my mouth. My parents were at the kitchen table with their laptops in front of them. My mom sighed.

"Augustus I really wish you'd stop messing around with cigarettes." She said in her best mom voice. I smiled and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek.

"It's completely harmless mom. It's not even lit." My dad shook his head.

"I still don't get that whole thing." He said.

"It's quite simple. You put the killing thing in your mouth but you don't give it the power to do it's killing. It's a metaphor. Get it?" I looked at both of their blank expressions. I shrugged my shoulders.

"I'm heading to Isaac's dumb support group." I said.

"Have fun." Mom said. I faked a laugh.

"Sure mom." The support group was being held at a church not too far from my house. I jerked and sped into the parking lot outside the church. I slammed my foot on the break and I flew forwards. The seat belt locked and my head hit the head rest. I groaned. One of the many unfortunate things about old prosty is that I can't feel any pressure in it therefore driving kinda sucks. The only reason I have my license today is because of a cancer perk. I turned off the ignition and walked inside. I followed some support group looking people down to the basement. On my left was a table with a sad selection of store bought cookie and lemonade in paper cups.

"Hey." Isaac clapped his hand on my shoulder. Here's how you describe Isaac. He's tall and skinny with blonde hair brushed over his glass eye. He wore big chunky glasses that magnified the real eye. The one in mortal peril.

"Why do you come to this? It looks like a torture chamber." I said, gesturing to the sad group of chairs in the middle of the room. Isaac laughed.

"Believe it or not Augustus I like talking to people other than you." He said.

"Dude I'd rather talk to myself than be here." I said. Isaac smiled. Isaac and I sat down in the circle of ridiculously small chairs.

"Of course you would." I was facing the table when I saw her. She turned and I stared. I just stared at her. The ghost of Caroline Mathers.

* * *

She saw me looking at her. Usually when you're caught looking at someone it's just smart to just look away and pretend it never happened. I didn't do that. I just continued to stare at her. She looked exactly like her when she was sick. Except for those eyes. Her eyes were green. She had short brown hair that looked like it hadn't been brushed in forever. She wore baggy jeans and a yellow shirt that advertised a band I've never even heard of. She wore chuck taylors on her feet and she had the handle of an oxygen tank in her hand. The cannula wrapped around her ears and the nubbins in her nose. She looked away. A part of me wished for her to look back at me.

She looked back and I still stared. She probably though I was assaulting her or something with my stare. Can you rape someone with your eyes? I don't even know. I just stared. She walked into the circle of chair and sat down across from me and Isaac. Isaac didn't seem to notice my stare down with the Caroline look alike. She looked away just a moment to check her phone. Then I was woken from my dream like state by the older guy. We chanted something stupid. _God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference._ And then I looked back at her. She was pretty. Really pretty. Not only was she just gorgeous but she was also staring at me with extreme intensity.

It was the ultimate stare down going on. I heard in the backround that the older guy was named Patrick and that he was telling us about his cancer. Let's shorten up his story and spare you the gory details. The dude had cancer in his balls. They thought he would die but he didn't so now he's probably a gaming bum with nothing but this support group. I finally decided to give up and show her one of my best crooked smiles. I looked away for a moment. When I looked back at her she flicked her eyebrows up as if to say _I win._

"Isaac, perhaps you like to go first today. I know you're facing a challenging time." Patrick said.

"Yeah." Isaac said.

"I'm Isaac. I'm seventeen and it's looking like I have to get surgery in a couple of weeks after which I'll be blind. Not to complain or anything because I know a lot of us have it worse but yeah, I mean, being blind does sorta suck. My girlfriend helps though. And friends like Augustus." Isaac nodded towards me.

"So yeah. There's nothing you can do about it." Isaac said.

"We're here for you Isaac. Let Isaac hear it guys." Patrick said.

"We're here for you Isaac." Everyone chanted. A few other people went on talking about their cancer stories. Michael with Leukemia, Lida who had appendiceal cancer. Just a few more before I became Patrick's next target.

"My name is Augustus Waters. I'm seventeen. I had a little touch of Osteosarcoma a year and a half ago but I'm just here today at Isaa'cs request." I said.

"And how are you feeling?" Patrick said.

"Oh I'm grand. I'm on a roller coaster that only goes up my friend." I said with my crooked smile." And then it was her turn.

"My name is Hazel. I'm sixteen. Thyroid with mets in my lungs. I'm okay." Everyone else went on with their stories of battle and loss. The two of us stayed quiet throughout most of it.

"Augustus, perhaps youd like to share your fears with the group." Patrick said.

"My fears?"

"Yes."

"I fear oblivion." I said.

"I fear it like the proverbial blind man who's afraid of the dark." I said with a smile on my face.

"Too soon." Isaac said, cracking a smile.

"Was that insensitive? I can be pretty blind to other people's feelings." I said. Isaac laughed out loud but Patrick didn't give up.

"Augustus, please. Let's return to you and your struggles. You said you fear oblivion?"

"I did." I said. Patrick seemed lost.

"Would, uh, would anyone like to speak to that?" And then she raised her hand. I sat forwards a little bit.

"Hazel!" Patrick said. She looked a little uncomfortable raising her hand. She took a deep breath and started speaking.

"There will come a time when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that anyone existed or that our species ever did anything. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. Everything that we did and built and wrote and thought and discovered will be forgotten and all of this"- she gestured around the room.

"will have been for naught. Maybe that time is coming soo and maybe it is a million years away, but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever. There was time before organisms experienced consciousness and there will be time after and if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you I encourage you to ignore it. God knows that's what everyone else does."

Everyone was quiet as they all processed her words of wisdom. I broke out in a huge smile.

"Goddamn aren't you something else."

* * *

**Hope that was to your liking:) gosh I love Augustus! I have a huge fangirl crush on him (but then again who doesn't?) stay tuned for chapter 3!**

**~Wallflower95**


	3. Chapter 2

**Hey everyone!:) Everyone have a great Halloween? Lots of candy?**

**LeighEight: ahhh those guys are my fangirl crushes to! I was so upset when Uriah died in the end:( I have a lot of fangirl crushes actually**

**Jace Herondale (fromt mortal instruments series), Augustus Waters (from fault in our stars), Park (from Eleanor &amp; Park), Eragon (from Eragon), Pudge (from looking for Alaska), Charlie (from perks of being a wallflower), 11th Doctor (from Doctor Who), Sherlock (from Sherlock tv show), Percy Jackson (percy jackson series), Uriah (from Divergent) and of course Four/Tobias from divergent:)**

**Who are your fangirl crushes?**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

**~Wallflower95**

* * *

**2**

Neither of us said anything for the rest of the support group. Patrick recited another chant and then read the names lost in the battle against cancer from a list. The list was depressingly long. When it was all done I immediately headed over to her. I towered over her.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Hazel."

"No, your full name."

"Um, Hazel Grace Lancaster." I looked her up and down. She really did look like Caroline. But there was something different. I was about to say something when Isaac showed up at my side.

"Hold on." I said, raising one finger. I turned to Isaac.

"That was actually worse than you made it out to be." I said.

"I told you it was bleak."

"Why do you bother?"

"I don't know. It kind of helps?" I leaned towards Isaac so Hazel Grace wouldn't hear.

"She's a regular?"

"Yeah. Look dude, I know she looks like Caroline." He whispered.

"I'll say." I muttered. I took Isaac by both shoulders a half step away from him and smile at Hazel Grace.

"Tell Hazel about clinic." Isacc leaned against the snack table that bent at his extra weight. I thought the damn thing would collapse.

"Okay, so I went into clinic this morning and I was telling my surgeon that I'd rather be deaf than blind and he said 'it doesn't work that way' and I was like 'yeah I realize it doesn't work that way; I'm just saying I'd rather be deaf than blind' and he said 'well, the good news is that you won't be deaf' and I was like 'thank you for explaining that my eye cancer isn't going to make me deaf. I feel so fortunate that an intellectual giant like yourself would deign to operate on me."

"He sounds like a winner." Hazel Grace said.

"I'm gonna get me some eye cancer so I can make this guy's acquaintance."

"Good luck with that." All right, I should go. Monica's waiting for me. I gotta look her a lot while I can."

"Counterinsurgence tomorrow?" I asked.

"Definitely." Isaac turned and ran up the steps, taking them two at a time. I turned to Hazel Grace.

"Literally."

"Literally?" She questioned.

"We are literally in the heart of Jesus. I thought we were in a church basement but we are literally in the heart of Jesus."

"Someone should tell Jesus. I mean, it's gotta be dangerous storing children with cancer in your heart." Hazel said. I smiled at her.

"I would tell Him myself but unfortunately I am literally stuck inside of His heart so He won't be able to hear me." I flashed my crooked smile. Hazel laughed. I shook my head as I looked at her.

"What?" She asked.

"Nothing." I said.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I half smiled at her.

"Because you're beautiful. I enjoy looking at beautiful people and I decided a while ago not to deny myself the simpler pleasures of existence." A brief and frankly quite awkward moment passed.

"I mean, particularly given that, as you so deliciously pointed out, all of this will end in oblivion and everything." I said. Hazel Grace scoffed or coughed or something and started to say;

"I'm not beaut-"

"You're like a millennial Natalie Portman. Like _V for Vendetta_ Natalie Portman."

"Never seen it." Hazel Grace said.

"Really? Pixie haired gorgeous girl, dislikes authority and can't help but fall for a boy she knows is trouble. It's your autobiography so far as I can tell." I said. I watched Hazel Grace mull it over. A young girl passed by us.

"How's it going Ailsa?" I asked. She smiled and mumbled.

"Hi Augustus." I saw Hazel Grace look at me.

"Memorial people." I said.

"Where do you go?"

"Children's."

"Well." Hazel Grace nodded towards the steps leading out of the Literal Heart of Jesus.

"So, see you next time maybe?" But I changed the subject.

"You should see it. V for Vendetta, I mean."

"Okay. I'll look it up."

"No. With me. At my house. Now." I said with a crooked smile. Hazel Grace stopped walking midsteps and looked right at me.

"I hardly know you Augustus Waters. You could be an axe murderer." I nodded.

"True enough, Hazel Grace." I walked past her up the stairs. It was an awkward climb for me. Stairs are always fun for me and old prosty. We stood in the parking lot as I figured she was waiting for her ride. I glanced over to two people who were practically mashed together against the stone wall of the church building. It was Isaac and his girlfriend Monica.

"Always. Always." The two of them kept saying that to each other. I prevented myself from rolling my eyes.

"They're big believers in PDA." I whispered to Hazel Grace.

"What's with the 'always'?" Hazel Grace asked as the awful slurping sounds intensified.

"Always is their thing. They'll always love each other and whatever. I would conservatively estimate they have texted each other the word always four million times in the last year." Cars drove by and picked other member from the support group until until it was just me, Hazel Grace and the two lovebirds. Out of no where Isaac reached with his hand and grabbed Monica's boob. I wanted to facepalm right then and there.

"Imagine taking that last drive to the hospital. The last time you'll ever drive a car." Hazel Grace said. I kept looking at Isaac and Monica.

"You're killing my vibe here Hazel Grace. I'm trying to observe young love in its many splendor-ed awkwardness."

"I think he's hurting her boob." Hazel Grace said.

"Yes. It's difficult to ascertain whether he is trying to arouse her or perform a breast exam." I then reached into my pocket and pulled out my pack of cigarettes.

"Are you serious?" Hazel Grace exclaimed. I looked at her.

"You think that's cool? Oh my go you just ruined the whole thing."

"Which whole thing?"

"The whole thing where a boy who is not unattractive or unintelligent or seemingly in anyway acceptable stares at me and points out incorrect uses of literality and compares me to actresses and asks me to watch a movie at his house. But of course there is always a harmatia and yours is that oh my god. Even though you HAD FREAKING CANCER you give money to a company in exchange for the chance to acquire YET MORE CANCER. Oh my god. Let me just assure you that not being able to breathe? SUCKS. Totally disappointing. Totally."

"A harmatia?" I asked. The cigarette dancing in my mouth.

"A fatal flaw." Hazel Grace said. She stepped toward the curb and I heard a car start up. It must be her ride. Right as her ride pulled up and she was just about to reach for the car door I grabbed her hand. She yanked it away.

"They don't kill you unless you light them." I said. Hazel Grace looked at me.

"And I've never lit one. It's a metaphor, see: You put the killing thing right between your teeth but you don't give it the power to do it's killing." I said. Hazel Grace's eyebrow went up.

"It's a metaphor." She said.

"It's a metaphor." I said with a crooked smile.

"You choose your behaviors based on their metaphorical resonances..." She said.

"Oh yes. I'm a big believer in metaphor, Hazel Grace." Hazel Grace turned toward the car and tapped on the window. Who I assumed was her mom leaned forwards.

"I'm going to a movie with Augustus Waters. Please record the next several episodes of ANTM marathon for me."

* * *

I was trying extremely hard to drive safe and to not scare the shit out of Hazel Grace but so far it wasn't working out for me. Everything happened with a tremendous jolt and I saw Hazel Grace fly forwards and hit her seat belt a few times. I winced.

"I failed my driving test three times." I said.

"You don't say." I laughed and nodded.

"Well, I can't feel pressure in old prosty and I can't get the hang of driving left footed. My doctors say most amputees can drive with no problem but... yeah. Not me. Anyway, I go for my fourth driving test and it goes about like this is going." A half a mile ahead of us a light turned red and I slammed on the brakes. Hazel Grace flew forwards again.

"Sorry. I swear to God I am trying to be gentle. Right, so anyway at the end of the test, I totally thought I'd failed again but the instructor was like 'Your driving is unpleasant, but it isn't technically unsafe.'"

"I'm not sure I agree." She said.

"I suspect Cancer Perk." Cancer Perks are these things that regular kids don't get. Its basically a way of regular people telling us they feel bad for us and the only way they can make it better for us is to give us something special.

"Yeah." The light turned green and I slammed on the gas.

"You know they've got hand controls for people who can't use their legs." Hazel Grace said.

"Yeah, maybe someday." I said. I'm sure Hazel Grace must have thought that comment was odd. How could a guy like me who happened to be in the 90% good side of Cancer possibly think about still biting from it? The truth is you can never know what will happen.

"So, are you in school?" Hazel Grace asked.

"Yeah. I'm at North Central. A year behind though. I'm a sophomore. You?" Sometimes when you're parents think you're going to bite from it soon they pull you at of school. I may have had cancer but my parents kept me in school cause they thought education was important.

"No, my parents pulled withdrew me three years ago."

"Three years?" And then she broke down her cancer story.

"I was thirteen when the found it. I was diagnosed with stage IV thyroid cancer. We were told it was incurable. I had this surgery called radical neck dissection which is about as unpleasant as it sounds. Then they started radiation and chemo. The tumors shrank then grew. By then, I was fourteen. My lungs started to fill up with water and I was looking pretty dead. Pretty soon I ended up in the ICU with pneumonia and right then and there I thought that was it. Then my regular Dr. Maria came, emptied the some of the water in my lungs and they decided to try this drug called Phalaxifor. It was a trial drug famous in the Republic of Cancervania for not working. It doesn't work in about 70% of people but for some reason it works for me. So the tumors shrank and they stayed shrunk. Honestly Phalaxifor only purchased me some more time." She said. I tried to change the subject. I assumed that Hazel Grace didn't exactly like sharing her cancer story as did I.

"So now you gotta go back to school." I said.

"I actually can't." She said.

"Because I already got my GED. So I'm taking classes at MCC."

"A college girl. That explains the aura of sophistication." I smirked and Hazel Grace shoved my arm. We made a wheel screeching stop in the driveway in front of my house. We headed inside. I was taking off my jacket when I noticed Hazel Grace looking at the encouragements on the wall.

"My parents call them encouragements. They're everywhere." Mom and dad didn't seem phased at all that I brought a girl home with me.

"Hi Gus." Mom said.

"This is Hazel Grace." I said, introducing her.

"Just Hazel." Hazel Grace said.

"How's it going, Hazel?" My dad asked.

"Okay." I said.

"How was Isaac's support group?" Mom asked.

"It was incredible."

"You're such a Debbie Downer." Mom said,

"Hazel do you enjoy it?" Hazel Grace took a moment to think about her words.

"Most of the people are really nice." She said. I smiled and nodded.

"That's exactly what we found with families at Memorial when we were in the thick of it with Gus's treatment. Everybody was so kind. Strong too. In the darkest days the Lord puts the best people into your life."

"Quick, give me a throw pillow and some thread because that needs to be an encouragement." I said. MY dad looked annoyed. I put my arm around him.

"I'm just kidding Dad. I like the freaking encouragements. I really do. I just can't admit it because I'm a teenager." My dad rolled his eyes.

"You're joining us for dinner I hope?" My mom asked Hazel Grace.

"I guess?" Hazel Grace cleared her throat.

"Also, I don't, um eat meat?"

"No problem. We'll vegetarinize some." She said.

"Animals just too cute?"

"I want to minimize the number of deaths I am responsible for." She said. Awkward silence.

"Well I think that's wonderful." Mom said. Mom and dad kept going on about curfews and food and pointless things.

"Hazel and I are going to watch V for Vendetta so she can see her filmie doppelganger, mid two thousands Natalie Portman."

"The living room tv is your for watching." Dad said.

"I think we're actually gonna watch it in the basement." Dad laughed.

"Good try. Living room."

"But I want to show Hazel Grace the basement."

"Just Hazel." Hazel Grace put in.

"So show Just Hazel the basement and then come upstairs and watch your movie in the living room." I puffed out my cheeks and twisted myself around.

"Fine." I mumbled. I might be acting a little immature, yes. I mean, its not like I was gonna go down there and make out with her. I just wanted to show her around. Honest! Once we were downstairs I flipped on the light. Hazel Grace looked at all of my shelves covered in basketball trophies.

"I used to play basketball." I explained.

"You must've been pretty good."

"I wasn't bad, but all the shoes and the balls are Cancer Perks." I walked towards the tv in my room and looked through my collection of Dvds until I spotted V for Vendetta.

"I was like the prototypical white hoosier. I was all about resurrecting the lost art of midrange jumper, but then one day I was shooting free throws-just standing at the foul line at the North Central gym shooting from a rack of balls. All at once I couldn't figure out why I was methodically tossing a spherical object through a torodial object. It seemed like the stupidest thing I could possibly be doing."

"I started thinking about little kids putting a cylindrical peg through a circular hole and how they do it over and over again for months when they figure it out and how basketball was basically just a slightly more aerobic version of that same exercise. Anyway, for the longest time, I just kept sinking the free throws. I hit eighty in a row, my all time best but as I kept going I felt more and more like a two year old and then for some reason I started to think about hurdlers. Are you okay?" I noticed Hazel Grace looked a little pale and she sat down on the bed.

"I'm fine. Just listening. Hurdlers?" She said.

"Yeah, hurdlers. I don't know why. I started thinking about them running their hurdle races and jumping over these totally arbitrary objects that had been set in their path and I wondered if hurdlers ever thought, 'this would be so much easier without the hurdles."

"This was before your diagnosis?"

"Right well, there was that too." I smiled.

"The day of the existentially fraught free throws was coincidentally my last day of dual leggedness. I had a weekend between when they scheduled the amputation and when it happened. My own little glimpse of what Isaac is going through."

"Do you have siblings?"

"Huh?"

"You said something about watching kids play."

"Oh yeah, no. I have nephews,from my half sisters. But they're older. They're like- DAD HOW OLD ARE JULIE AND MARTHA?"

"Twenty eight!"

"They're like twenty eight. The live in Chicago. They are both married to very fancy lawyer dudes. I can't remember. You have siblings?" She shook her head.

"So, what's your story?" I asked her.

"I already told you my story. I was diagnosed when I was-"

"No, not your cancer story. Your story. Intrests, hobbies, passions, weird fetishes, etcetera."

"Um..."

"Don't tell me you're one of those people who becomes their disease. I know so many people like that. It's disheartening. Like, cancer is in the growth business right? The taking people over business. But surely yo haven't let it succeed prematurely." I said, looking at her. She took a moment to think.

"I am pretty unextraordinary."

I reject that out of hand. Think of something you like. The first thing that comes to mind." I said.

"Um. Reading?"

"What do you read?"

"Everything. From like hideous romance to pretentious fiction to poetry. Whatever."

"Do you write poetry?"

"No. I don't write."

"There!" I exclaimed.

"Hazel Grace you are the only teenager in America who prefers reading poetry to writing it. This tells me so much. You read a lot of capital G great books, don't you?"

"I guess?"

"What's your favorite?"

"Um." It took her a moment. She practically had the name of the book on her tongue but for some reason she didn't look like she wanted to share it. As if the book was hers and hers alone.

"My favorite book is An Imperial Affliction." She said.

"Does it feature zombies?"

"No."

"Stormtroopers?" She shook her head.

"It's not that kind of book." She said. I smiled at her.

"I am going to read this terrible book with the boring title that does not contain stormtroopers." I said. I walked over to my bookshelf and grabbed one of my favorite books.

"All I ask in exchange is that you read this brilliant and haunting novelization of my favorite video game." I gave the book to her. I felt like I was handing something very special to her. In the exchange our hands got tangled together.

"Cold." I said as I pressed a finger to her pale wrist.

"Not cold so much as underoxygenated." She said. I smiled at her.

"I love it when you talk medical to me." I stood up and pulled her up with me and we headed upstairs.

* * *

**That's all for now guys. I spent a long time typing this up. Will try and update soon! Please comment and review:)**

**Okay?**

**~Wallflower95**


	4. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! So sorry this chapter took some time. I've been super busy this week. I would just like to say to the guest: I apologize for any spelling errors, grammar mistakes, etc. Of course I always try and take the time to go back and fix them but I sometimes can't fix everything. I'm not perfect and I have never said I was. Everyone makes mistakes. We just have to learn from them!:)**

**enjoy the chapter:)**

**~Wallflower95**

**p.s great fangirl crushes everyone:)**

* * *

**3**

The movie played before us. We were sitting in the living room watching V for Vendetta. There was several inches between us. I tried to keep my eyes on the tv even though I'd seen the movie millions of times. I just really want to look at Hazel Grace but of course that'd be super creepy of me so I resisted the urge to look at her. She even put her hand in the middle of the couch. I was so tempted to reach out and take into my own hand but I was afraid I'd scare her away. I really didn't want to do that. An hour into the movie mom and dad brought some enchiladas in for a snack. The credits rolled and I looked at Hazel Grace.

"Pretty great, huh?"

"Pretty great." She agreed.

"I should get home. Class in the morning." She said. I nodded and got up in search of the car keys. I noticed Hazel Grace was looking at one of the Encouragements above the tv.

"I just love this one, don't you?" My mom said. It was a drawing of an angel with the caption _Without pain, how could we know joy?_ When I was little I never did understand that one. I still don't actually.

"Yes. A lovely thought." Hazel Grace said. I found the car keys and we were off. Hazel Grace argued she should drive home since she knew the way there. I couldn't help but think that my driving was a turn off for her. I played a couple of songs by my favorite band, The Hectic Glow. We pulled up to her house and I switched off the radio. I looked at her and she looked at me.

"Hazel Grace, it has been a real pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Ditto, Mr. Waters." She said.

"May I see you again?" I asked. I tried to keep my voice calm and cool. I didn't want to seem to eager (even thought I was extremely eager to see her again). She smiled at me.

"Sure."

"Tomorrow?" _Oh yeah that doesn't sound desperate at all Augustus._

"Patience, grasshopper. You don't want to seem overeager."

"Right, that's why I said tomorrow. I want to see you again tonight but I'm willing to wait all night and much of tomorrow." She rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious."

"You don't even know me." She said. She grabbed the book, The Price of Dawn from the middle console.

"How about I call you when I finish this?"

"But you don't even have my phone number." I pointed out.

"I strongly suspect you wrote it in the book." I smiled, a smile that felt too big for my face.

"And you say we don't know each other."

* * *

After school I headed over to Isaac's house for a round of Counterinsurgence. It was a routine of ours. After a long day at school, the best way to cool off some steam is to kill some pixelized bad dudes.

"So, what did you really think of support group?" Isaac asked as he killed a guy with a headshot. I scoffed.

"Dismal." I said.

"You and Hazel seemed to get along." Isaac said. I nodded.

"We watched a movie yesterday. At my place." I said. Isaac laughed.

"Would you like a sign taped to your forehead that says desperate?" I pressed some buttons on my controller and my character shot Isaac's character in the leg.

"Dude..."

"It's not like that." I said. Isaac shrugged his shoulders and grabbed his controller.

"You like her?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's a little premature." Isaac said. I shook my head.

"I don't think it is." Isaac shrugged his shoulders and we continued to be bad asses in the game. Once the game was over I went back home. I wasn't ready for homework yet so I decided to read An Imperial Affliction. Her favorite book. It's about this girl named Anna with leukemia but it's not a cancer story. See, cancer stories are always about the person with cancer starts a foundation in their name and they try to create this legacy for themselves or whatever. But AIA isn't a cancer story. No. Anna decides that being person with cancer who starts a cancer charity is narcissistic so she starts a charity call the Anna Foundation for People with Cancer Who Want to Cue Cholera. It was great. Really honest. I was really liking it. my phone buzzed.

**Price of Dawn review: Too many bodies. Not enough adjectives. How's AIA?**

I smiled and replied right away.

**As I recall, you promised to CALL when you finished the book, not text.**

She called.

"Hazel Grace."

"So have you read it?"

"Well I haven't finished it. It's six hundred and fifty one pages long and I've had twenty four hours."

"How far are you?"

"Four fifty-three."

"And?"

"I will withhold judgement until I finish. However, I will say that I'm feeling a bit embarrassed to have given you The Price of Dawn."

"Don't be. I'm already on Requim for Mayhem."

"A sparkling addition to the series. So, okay, is the tulip guy a crook? I'm getting a bad vibe from him."

"No spoilers." She said with a hint of teasing in her voice.

"If he is anything other than a total gentleman, I'm going to gouge his eyes out."

"So you're into it."

"Withholding judgement! When can I see you?"

"Certainly not until you finish An Imperial Affliction."

"Then I'd better hang up and start reading."

"You'd better." And that's what I did.

* * *

The next day I was sitting in my room on my bed reading AIA. It was great. So honest and real. You don't find books like this anymore. Things were looking good so far. The Dutch Tulip Man and Anna's mom were about to get married and Anna was starting a new treatment and

"What?!" I read the paragraph over again. I read it again. And again. I grabbed my phone.

**Tell me my copy is missing the last twenty pages or something**

**Hazel Grace, tell me I have not reached the end of this book**

**OH MY GOD DO THEY GET MARRIED OR NOT OH MY GOD WHAT IS THIS**

**I guess Anna died and so it just ends? CRUEL. Call me when you can. Hope all's okay.**

There was a knock from upstairs.

"Yeah?" I called. Footsteps walked down and Issac appeared. His face was red and tears streamed down his face.

"Hey man." I said getting up.

"What's wrong?" Isaac shook his head.

"Okay. Okay. Uh do you want to play Counterinsurgence?" I asked. He nodded. I put the game in and we started play. He sobbed loudly for a bit and angrily shot at the bad dudes before he talked.

"She broke up with me." He cried.

"Monica?" He nodded, his lower lip protruding.

"Sorry about that man." I said. But Isaac didn't listen. He just play and yelled and cried at the game. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was her.

"Hazel Grace."

"So welcome to the sweet torture of reading An Imperial-" At that moment Isaac started sobbing violently. I winced as the sound pierced my eardrums.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"I'm grand. I am however with Isaac who seems to be decompensating." He wailed louder. God my parents are going to kill for all this sound going on. It sounded like someone was being murdered.

"Dude. Dude. Does support group Hazel make this better or worse? Isaac. Focus. On. Me." I said one word at a time to try and get Isaac's attention. He was to focusing on wailing at the tv screen.

"Can you meet us at my house in, say, twenty minutes?" I asked Hazel Grace.

"Sure." And she hung up.

* * *

I turned when I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. It was Hazel Grace. She was wearing this past the knee green dress that matched her eyes. It showed of her collar bone that was really sticking out but she looked... incredible.

"Hazel Grace."

"Isaac, Hazel from support group is coming downstairs. Hazel, gentle reminder. Isaac is in the midst of a psychotic episode."

"How are you Hazel?"

"I'm okay. Isaac?" No response. Not even a reaction to Hazel Grace's arrival.

"You look nice. Girls think they're only allowed to wear dress on formal occasions but I like a woman who says, you know, 'I'm going over to see a boy who is having a nervous breakdown, a boy whose connection to the sense of of sight itself is tenuous and gosh dang it I'm going to wear a dress for him'.

"Any yet, Isaac won't so much as glance over at me. Too in love with Monica I suppose." That comment cause Isaac to explode into another fit of sobs. I winced.

"Bit of a touchy subject." I explained.

"Isaac, I don't know about you but I have the vague sense that we're being outflanked." I looked back at Hazel Grace.

"Isaac and Monica are no longer a going concern but he doesn't want to talk about it. He just wants to cry and play Counterinsurgence 2: The Price of Dawn."

"Fair enough."

"Isaac, I feel a growing concern about our position. If you agree, head over to that power station and I'll cover you." Isaac's character zig zagged to the building.

"Anyway, it doesn't hurt to talk to him. If you have any sage words of feminine advice."

"I actually think his response is probably appropriate." A burst of gunfire came from Isaac's character. I nodded at the screen.

"Pain demands to be felt." I looked at Isaac.

"You're sure there's no one behind us?" Seconds later bullets rained down on our characters.

"Oh goddamn it Isaac. I don't mean to criticize you in your moment of weakness but you've allowed us to be outflanked and now there's nothing in between the terrorists and the school." Isaac's character took off running toward the fire, zigging and zagging down a narrow alleyway.

"You could go over the bridge and circle back." Hazel Grace said. I smiled a little as that was a tactic from The Price of Dawn. I sighed.

"Sadly, the bridge is already under insurgent control due to questionable strategizing by my bereft cohort."

"Me? Me?! You're the one who suggested to hole up in the freaking power station." I turned to Isaac and flashed my crooked smile.

"I knew you could talk buddy. Now let's save some fictional school children."

"Why do they want to get into the school?" Hazel Grace asked.

"They want the kids as hostages." Isaac and I leaned towards the screen.

"Get it get it get it get it." I repeated. Something flew across the screen.

"Grenade! Grenade!" Isaac dropped his controller in disappointment.

"If the bastards can't have hostage they just kill them and claim we did it."

"Cover me!" I yelled. Isaac fumbled for the controller and his character started firing bullet after bullet at our enemies. My character raced towards the school. Bullets rained down on me but I didn't fall.

"YOU CAN'T KILL MAX MAYHEM!" My character flew on top of the grenade and it exploded throwing chunks of my character everywhere. Mission failure. But I smiled and leaned back. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cigarettes.

"Saved the kids." I said, sounding satisfied.

"Temporarily." Hazel Grace said.

"All salvation is temporary. I bought them a minute. Maybe that's the minute that buys them an hour, which is the hour that buys them a year. No one's going to buy them forever, Hazel Grace, but my life bought them a minute and that's not nothing."

"Whoa okay. We're just talking about pixels." I shrugged and looked back at Isaac.

"Another go at the mission, corporal?" Isaac shook his head and leaned over so he could see Hazel Grace.

"She didn't want to do it after." He said.

"She didn't want to dump a blind guy." Hazel Grace said.

"She couldn't handle it. I'm about to lose my eyesight and she can't handle it."

"I'm sorry." Hazel Grace said. Isaac wiped the tears from his eyes.

"It's unacceptable. It's totally unacceptable." He said.

"Well to be fair, I mean she probably can't handle it. Neither can you, but she doesn't have to handle it. You do."

"I kept saying 'always' to her today. 'Always always always' and she just kept talking over me and not saying it back. It was like I was already gone, you know? 'Always' was a promise! How can you break the promise?"

"Sometimes people don't understand the promises they're making when they make them." Hazel Grace said. Isaac shot Hazel Grace a look.

"Right, of course but you keep the promise anyway. That's what love is. Love is keeping the promise anyway. Don't you believe in true love?" Hazel Grace didn't answer.

"Well I believe in true love and I love her. And she promised. She promised me always." He stood up and took a step towards Hazel Grace. I was about to get up in case he took a swing at her but then he just spun around as if he had forgotten what he was going to do.

"Isaac."

"What?"

"You look a little... Pardon my double entrendre, my friend, but there's something a little worrisome in your eyes." And then Isaac started beating the crap out of his gaming chair.

"Here we go." I said.

"Yes. Get it! Kick the shit out of that chair!" Isaac kicked the chair again until it bounced against my bed. Isaac chased after it. I looked over at Hazel Grace.

"I can't stop thinking about that book."

"I know right?"

"He never said what happens to the other characters?"

"No. He moved to Amsterdam which makes me think maybe he is writing a sequel featuring the Dutch Tulip Man, but he hasn't published anything. He's never interviewed. He doesn't seem to be online. I've written him a bunch of letters but he never responds. So... yeah." But I noticed Isaac letting out his frustration on some pillows from my bed.

"Hold on." I mumbled. I walked over to Isaac and took him by the shoulders.

"Dude, pillows don't break. Try something that breaks." Isaac reached for a basketball trophy from the shelf. He looked at me for approval.

"Yes. Yes! Yes! Get it!" The trophy smashed against the floor and pieces flew everywhere. I went back to stand by Hazel Grace.

"I've been looking for a way to tell my father that I actually sort of hate basketball, and I think we found it." Trophy after trophy smashed to the ground until there was non left. Isaac fell to the ground in the midst of broken trophies.

"Feel better?" I asked him.

"No." Isaac mumbled.

"That's the thing about pain," I looked at Hazel Grace when I said this.

"It demands to be felt."

* * *

**And there you have it. Stay tuned for some updates this weekend guys. I'm going to try for Here I Lie, Anna's Infinity and Doctor Who maybe tomorrow and then Fault in His Stars and Convergent later on.**

**Please comment and review! Thanks:)**

**~Wallflower95**


	5. Chapter 4

**Hey everyone! oh my gosh guys Mockingjay comes out this Friday!:) are any of you hunger games fans? Agggh I cannot wait to see it I am so excited :) haha anyways, here is chapter 4. hope you like it!**

**Okay?**

**~Wallflower95**

* * *

**4**

It's been a week since I spoke to Hazel Grace. A week since the night of the broken trophies. Since then I have been attending school as usual and doing some gaming with Isaac. Just boring stuff and then Isaac is losing his sight soon. I'm also trying to come up with something really intelligent to say about An Imperial Affliction so I could discuss it with Hazel Grace. I just really wanted to something nice for Hazel Grace so the other day I had decided to look up old reclusive Peter Van Houten. I had searched and searched until I came upon the email address of his assistant. Lidw... I don't know. Anyway, I wrote an email:

**Dear Mr. Peter Van Houten,**

**My name is Augustus Waters. I am an Osteosarcoma survivor and I coincidentally, at the request of a very good friend of mine, read your book. You see, this friend introduced me to your book 'An Imperial Affliction'. While you book does not feature zombies or stormtroopers I do have to say that your book meant a great deal to me... mostly because this great friend of mine shared it with me and I believe that is was something very special she shared with me. I do have a question for you. A question that I'm sure even my friend would like to know. Do you plan on writing another book? Maybe even a sequel?**

**Even though your book is not 'my type', I still want to know what the heck happens in the end. **

**Sincerely,**

**Augustus Waters**

Today, when I got home from school I had an email. I clicked on it. It's from him.

"Oh I gotta tell Hazel Grace." I reached for my phone and dialed her number. There was no answer. I turned on some Hectic Glow and read the email. An hour later, she called back.

"Hazel Grace." I said.

"Hi." She said.

"How are you?"

"Grand. I have been waiting to call you on a nearly minutely basis but I have been waiting until I could form a coherent thought in re And Imperial Affliction." Oh yeah I said in re.

"And?" She questioned.

"I think it's, like. Reading it, I just kept feeling like, like."

"Like?" She said teasingly.

"Like it was a gift?" I said askingly. _Oh such great words Augustus. You'll totally get the girl now. _I wanted to kick myself.

"Like you'd given me something important." I kept going.

"Oh." She said. I bit my lip and closed my eyes.

"That's cheesy. I'm sorry." I said.

"No. No. Don't apologize." She said.

"But it doesn't end." I said.

"Yeah."

"Torture. I totally get it, like, I get that she died or whatever."

"Right I assume so." She said.

"And okay, fair enough, but there is this unwritten contract between author and reader and I think not ending your book kind of violates that contract."

"I don't know." She said, sounding a little defensive.

"That's part of what I like about the book in some ways. It portrays death truthfully. You die in the middle of your life, in the middle of a sentence. But I do- God, I do really want to know what happens to everyone else. That's what I asked him in my letters. But he, yeah, he never answers." I smiled.

"Right. You said he's a recluse?"

"Correct."

"Impossible to track down."

"Correct."

"Utterly unreachable."

"Unfortunately so." I smiled and started reading the email Peter Van Houten himself sent me.

"'Dear Mr. Waters," I read. "'I am writing to thank you for your electronic correspondence, received via Ms. Vliegenthart this sixth of April, from the United States of America, insofar as geography can be said to exist in our triumphantly digitized contemporaneity.'"

"Augustus, what the hell?"

"He has an assistant. Lidewij Vliegenthart. I found her. I emailed her. She gave him the email. He responded via her email account."

"Okay. Okay. Keep reading."

"'My response is being written with ink and paper in the glorious tradition of our ancestors and then transcribed by Ms. Vliegenthart into a series of 1s and 0s to travel the insipid web which has lately ensnared our species, so I apologize for any errors or omissions that may result. Given the entertainment bacchanalia at the disposal of young men and women of your generation, I am grateful to anyone anywhere who sets aside the hours necessary to read my little book. But I am particularly indebted to you, sir both for your kind words about An Imperial Affliction and here I quote you directly, "meant a great deal" to you. This comment, however, leads me to wonder: What do you mean by meant? Given the final futility of our struggle, is the fleeting jolt of meaning that art gives us valuable? Or is the only value in passing the time as comfortably as possible? What should a story seek to emulate, Augustus? A ringing alarm? A call to arms? A morphine drip? Of course, like all interrogation of the universe, this line of inquiry inevitably reduces us to asking what it means to be human and whether- to borrow a phrase from the angst- encumbered sixteen year-olds you no doubt revile- _there is a point to it all._

"'I fear there is not , my friend, and that you would receive scant encouragement from further encounters with my writing. But to answer your question: No, I have not written anything else, nor will I. I do not feel that continuing to share my thoughts with readers would benefit either them or me. Thank you again for your generous email. Yours most sincerely, Peter Van Houten, via Lidewij Vliegenthart.'"

"Wow. Are you making this up?" I stifled a laughed.

"Hazel Grace, could I, with my meager intellectual capacities, make up a letter from Peter Van Houten featuring phrases like 'our triumphantly digitized contemporaneity'?"

"You could not." She said.

"Can I, can I have the email address?" I smiled.

"Of course."

* * *

After Hazel Grace spent two hours writing a very intellectual sounding email to the Mr. Peter Van Houten, she called me back and we stayed up late talking about An Imperial Affliction . She also read me this really nice sounding poem from Emily Dickinson that Van Houten had used for the title of AIA. I told her The Price of Dawn starts with a poem as well. I searched my room for the book and opened it up to the page.

"' Say your life broke down. The last good kiss/ You had was years ago.'"

"Not bad." She said.

"Bit pretentious. I believe Max Mayhem would refer to that as 'sissy shit'."

"Yes, with his teeth gritted, no doubt. God, Mayhem grits his teeth a lot in these books. He's definitely going to get TMJ, if he survives all this combat." I said. And then I asked a question that surprised even myself.

"When was the last good kiss you had?" She was quiet. Thinking about it. My last good kiss had been of course with my ex-girlfriend (if you can even call her that since technically we never broke up).

"Years ago." Hazel Grace finally said. "You?"

"I had a few good kisses with my ex-girlfriend, Caroline Mathers." I said as her face flashed in my mind.

"Years ago?" She asked.

"The last one was just less than a year ago." I said.

"What happened?"

"During the kiss?"

"No, with you and Caroline."

"Oh." I said. I haven't really talked to anyone about Caroline. Isaac had been there during our time together and he had been there for me after she had died. Mom and dad were there for me of course but, I don't know. I guess I didn't really like talking about it.

"Caroline is no longer suffering from personhood." I said.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault Hazel Grace. We're all just side effects, right?"

"Barnacles in the container ship of consciousness." She said, quoting AIA.

"Okay. I gotta go to sleep. It's almost one." I said.

"Okay." She said.

"Okay." I said with a smile. She giggled on the other end.

"Okay." And it was quiet. No one had hung up. It was just me and Hazel Grace. It felt as she was here but actually wasn't here. I could hear her soft even breathing on the other end and I was so tempted to reach out for her hand when I realized she wasn't actually there.

"Okay." I said into the phone.

"Maybe okay will be our 'always'."

"Okay." Sadly, I had to hang up.

* * *

**Please comment and review guys! I appreciate the feedback muchly:)**

**~Wallflower95**


	6. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! anyone her a hunger games fan? I saw mockingjay on Friday and it was awesome! i completely recommend seeing it:)Oh and if you guys are reading my other fanfic Anna's Infinity be sure to keep your eyes out for the very last two chapter of that story! I'm hoping to update this week. Thanks guys and please be sure to leave a review and comment:)**

**Okay?**

**~Wallflower95 **

* * *

**5**

It's Wednesday. I was at the hospital. Not for myself. Those days are behind me. Isaac just got out of surgery. He's officially NEC. I text Hazel Grace.

**Isaac out of surgery. It went well. He's officially NEC.**

And then I sent a second text a few seconds after.

**I mean, he's blind. So that's unfortunate.**

And then a nurse said I could visit Isaac now. He just woke and I was warned he might sound a little, drugged up. I opened the door and Isaac was on the bed with a bandage around his eyes. I take a deep breath and throw the door open.

"I have wonderful news!" I shouted. Isaac turned his head towards me.

"I don't really want to hear wonderful news right now." He said perfectly clear but a lot slower than usual.

"Ah but this is wonderful news you want to hear." I said.

"Fine, what is it?"

"You are going to live a good and long life filled with great and terrible moments you cannot even imagine yet!" Isaac was quiet and then he smiled. I smiled too.

"Has anyone ever told you you're obnoxious?" Isaac asked.

"Once and they did not live to finish the sentence." Isaac laughed.

"What are you doing here?"

"Took the day off from school. Thought I'd drop by and see how you're doing." I said as I sat down next to his bed.

"Well, I'm blind and heartbroken. How do you think I'm doing?" I thought about it.

"Not good?" Isaac shook is head.

"Sorry. I'll shut up." I said as I sat back in my seat. Isaac winced as he tried to adjust his position.

"I texted Hazel Grace to let her know you're okay." I said. Isaac nodded.

"You like her."

"Indeed I do." I said.

"Isn't it a little weird?" I frowned.

"How so?"

"You know... her looking like Caroline." Isaac said. I sighed.

"Yes..." I said.

"But I promised myself that I'd move on after Caroline. And that's what I'm trying to do." I said. Isaac nodded. A nurse opened the door.

"Sorry hun but Isaac needs his rest." I took Isaac's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Feel better man. I want you up and ready for combat in 48 hours." Isaac laughed.

"Sure thing." He said.

* * *

A few hours later I came back to the hospital. Hazel Grace called and she read the email Van Houten had sent to her.

"Wow."

"I know right? How am I going to get to Amsterdam?" She asked.

"Do you have a wish?" I asked. I was referring to The Genie Foundation which is the business of making cancer patient's dreams come true.

"No. I used my wish pre-Miracle." She said.

"What'd you do?" She sighed on the other end.

"I was thirteen."

"Not Disney." She didn't answer.

"You did not go to Disney World." Again, no answer.

"HAZEL GRACE!" I shouted.

"You did not use your one dying wish to go to Disney world with your parents."

"Also Epcot Center." She muttered on the other end. I rolled my eyes. For cancer patients with a wish they always ask for the same thing... Disney.

"Oh my god. I can't believe I have a crush on a girl with such cliche' wishes." Wow I said crush.

"I was thirteen!"

"And shouldn't you be in school or something?"

"I'm playing hooky to hang out with Isaac, but he's sleeping so I'm in the atrium doing geometry."

"How's he doing?"

"I can't tell if he's just not ready to confront the seriousness of his disability or if he really does care more about getting dumped by Monica, but he won't talk about anything else."

"Yeah. How long's he gonna be in the hospital?"

"Few days. The he goes to this rehab or something for a while, but he gets to sleep at home, I think."

"Sucks." I see Isaac's mom coming down the hallway.

"I see his mom. I gotta go."

"Okay."

"Okay." I said with my crooked smile plastered on my face.

* * *

Hazel Grace may have just wasted the one and only wish that would have helped her achieve her actual dream... to meet the great Peter Van Houten author of An Imperial Affliction. But luckily, I saved my wish. You see, there are 10 in 1,000 kids every year who are smart about the wishes the Genies give. These lucky 10 are smart enough to save their wishes for something they will actually want. I am one of those ten. I got the wish in exchange for the leg. I was in kitchen putting the finishing touches on the sandwiches.

I moved towards the fridge when I felt a sharp pain in my hip. I winced. What was that? When I moved again it was a dull and throbbing pain. I shook my head. No. I got things to do. I packed up the food and grabbed the ridiculously bright flowers and headed out to the car. Ten minutes later I was outside Hazel Grace's front door. I knocked a few times but it was obvious no one was home. I called her. She answered.

"Are you currently at your house?" I asked.

"Um, no."

"That was a trick question. I knew the answer because I am currently at your house." I said.

"Oh. Um. Well, we are on our way, I guess?"

"Awesome. See you soon." And I hung up. I was sitting on the front step when they arrived. I held the bright orange tulips in her hand. I adjusted the Rik Smits jersey I was wearing. Hazel Grace got out of the car and she was stunning. I smiled and held out the tulips. She took them.

"Wanna go on a picnic?" I asked. Her dad walked up to me and shook my hand.

"Is that a Rik Smits jersey?" He asked. I smiled. He's a fan.

"Indeed."

"God, I loved that guy." He said. I followed them into their home. Hazel Grace disappeared with the orange tulips and I was left in the front room with her parents.

"So you met Hazel at Support Group." Her dad said.

"Yes, sir. This is a lovely house you've got. I like your artwork." I said looking around.

"Thank you, Augustus." Mrs. Lancaster said.

"You're a survivor yourself, then?"

"I am. I didn't cut this fella off for the sheer unadulterated pleasure of it, although it is an excellent weight-loss strategy. Legs are heavy!"

"And how's your health now?"

"NEC for fourteen months."

"That's wonderful. The treatment options these days- it really is remarkable." Mrs. Lancaster said.

"I know. I'm lucky."

"You have to understand that Hazel is still sick, Augustus, and will be for the rest of her life. She'll want to keep up with you, but her lungs-"

And at that moment Hazel Grace entered the room, silencing her dad.

"So where are you going?" I stood up from where I was sitting and leaned towards Mrs. Lancaster and whispered the location of my romantic gesture. She smiled. I held my finger up to my lips.

"Shh. It's a secret." I said. Hazel Grace looked at the two of us and I smiled at her.

"You've got your phone?" Hazel Grace held it up as evidence. I offered Hazel Grace my arm and we were off.


	7. Chapter 6

**Hi guys! So Anna's Infinity is now finished (if you guys had been keeping up with that one). Please be sure to check out my Holiday Special based on Anna's Infinity called 'All I Want is You'. If you're a fan of the tv show Sherlock please check out my other Holiday Special Fanfic called 'Merry Murder'. Hope you all like this chapter!:)**

**Okay?**

**~Wallflower95**

* * *

**6**

Of course, to keep the location a secret from Hazel Grace I had to drive which meant she was subjected to my torturous driving all the way there.

"You nearly charmed the pants off my mom." Hazel Grace said in the passenger seat. We jerked forwards. I smiled.

"Yeah, and your dad was a Smits fan, which helps. You think they liked me?" I asked her.

"Sure they did. Who cares, thought? They're just parents." She said.

"They're you're parents," I said, glancing over at her. "Plus, I like being liked. Is that crazy?"

"Well you don't have to rush to hold doors open or smother me i compliments for me to like you." I slammed on the brakes which cause the both of us to fly forwards until our seat belts caught us. I definitely smelled the burn of rubber. As we drove on, I reached into the center console for my pack of cigarettes.

"Do you ever throw them away?"

"One of the many benefits of not smoking is that packs of cigarettes last forever. I've had this pack for almost a year. A few of them are broken near the filters, but I think this pack can easily get me to my eighteenth birthday." I held the filter in between my fingers.

"So, okay. Okay. Name some things that you never see in Indianapolis."

"Um, skinny adults." She answered. I laughed.

"Good. Keep going."

"Mmm, beaches. Family owned restaurants. Topography."

"All excellent examples of things we lack. Also, culture."

"Yeah, we are a bit short on culture." Her expression changed which made me think she figured out what I was planning.

"Are we going to the museum?" She asked.

"In a manner of speaking."

"Oh, are we going to that park or whatever." I literally felt like a balloon that just got popped or maybe a kid who just got their lollipop stolen.

"Yes, we are going to that park or whatever. You've figured it out, haven't you?"

"Um, figured what out?"

"Nothing."

* * *

See there's park behind a museum where a bunch of artists had made these big sculptures. I used to go with my half sisters when I was younger. The sculpture is an over-sized skeleton. The bones are waist high and a lot of fun to climb. I remember climbing and jumping from bone to bone when I was younger and free of cancer. As we walked down the hill I felt that pain in my hip again but I ignored it. I wouldn't let it ruin this for Hazel Grace.

"Funky Bones. Created by Joep Van Lieshout."

"Sounds Dutch."

"He is. So is Rik Smits. So are tulips." I said. I settled on a spot that had a perfect view of kids climbing and jumping on the sculpture. I slipped my backpack that held all the food and set the picnic. I had to admit, I may have overdone it with all the orange.

"What's with all the orange?"

"National color of the Netherlands, of course. You remember William of Orange and everything?"

"He wasn't on the GED test." Hazel Grace said with a smile. I couldn't help but marvel her smile. I could look at it all day.

"Sandwich?"

"Let me guess." She said, taking it.

"Dutch cheese and tomato. The tomatoes are from Mexico. Sorry."

"You're always such a disappointment Augustus. Couldn't you have at least gotten orange tomatoes?" I laughed and bit it in to the ridiculously dry sandwich. Down the the hill we could hear children laughing and calling out to each other as the jumped and played on Funky Bones.

"Two things I love about this sculpture," I said. I had an unlit cigarette in my hand. "First, the bones are just far enough apart that if you're a kid, you cannot resist the urge to jump between them. Like, you just have to jump from rib cage to skull. Which means that, second, the sculpture essentially forces children to play on bones. The symbolic resonances are endless, Hazel Grace."

"You do love symbols." She pointed out.

"Right, about that. You are probably wondering why you are eating a bad cheese sandwich and drinking orange juice and why I am wearing the jersey of a Dutchman who played a sport I have come to loathe."

"It has crossed my mind."

"Hazel Grace, like so many children before you- and I say this with great affection- you spent your Wish hastily, with little care for the consequences. The Grim Reaper was staring you in the face an the fear of dying with your Wish still in your proverbial pocket, ungranted, led you to rush toward the first Wish you could think of, and you, like so many others, chose the artificial pleasures of the theme park."

"I actually had a great time on that trip. I met Goofy and Minn-" I cut her off.

"I am in the midst of a soliloquy! I wrote this out and memorized it and if you interrupt me I will completely screw it up. Please to be eating your sandwich and listening." Hazel Grace smiled and continued chewing that awful sandwich.

"Okay, where was I?"

"The artificial pleasures."

"Right, the cold and artificial pleasures of the theme park. But let me submit that the real heroes of the Wish Factory are the young men and women who wait like Vladimir and Estragon wait for Godot and good Christian girls wait for marriage. These young heroes wait stoically and without complaint for their one true Wish to come along. Sure, it may never come along, but at least they can rest easily in the grave knowing that they've done their little part to preserve the integrity of the Wish as an idea."

"But then again, maybe it will come along: Maybe you'll realize that your one true Wish is to visit the brilliant Peter Van Houten in his Amsterdamian exile, and you will be glad indeed to have saved your Wish."

"But I didn't save my Wish." She said. I smiled.

"Ah," I paused for a dramatic effect.

"But I saved mine."

"Really?" She seemed surprised which I don't blame her. I would be 'Wish eligible' considering I was in school and about a year into remission. I got it in exchange for the leg though. See? Some good things come out of losing a limb.

"I got it in exchange for the leg." I explained to her.

"Now, I'm not going to give you my Wish or anything. But I also have an interest in meeting Peter Van Houten, and it wouldn't make sense to meet him without the girl who introduced me to his book."

"It definitely wouldn't." She said with a smile.

"So I talked to the Genies, and they are in total agreement. They said Amsterdam is lovely in the beginning of May. They proposed leaving May third and returning May seventh."

"Augustus, really?" And then I reached over and touched her cheek. I couldn't help myself. I've been wanting to do that since the first day I met her. I felt her tense under my touch and I pulled my hand away.

"Augustus," She said. "Really. You don't have to do this."

"Sure I do. I found my Wish."

"God you're the best." She said.

"I bet you say that to all the boys who finance your international travel."

* * *

Only a day went by since I broke the news to Hazel Grace about Amsterdam. I couldn't get over her tensing up after I touched her. Of course, it was way to early for that kind of stuff. That's when she texted me.

**Hi, so okay, I don't know if you'll understand this but I can't kiss you or anything. Not that you'd necessarily want to, but I can't. When I try to look at you like that, all I see is what I'm going to put you through. Maybe that doesn't make sense to you.**

**Anyway, sorry.**

Believe it or not, I knew what she was trying to say to me. She wanted to save me the pain of loss. She didn't want to be my Caroline Mathers. I texted back.

**Okay.**

She texted back.

**Okay.**

I replied.

**Oh, my God, stop flirting with me!**

She said:

**Okay.**

I responded.

**I was kidding, Hazel Grace. I understand. (But we both know that 'okay' is a very flirty word. Okay is BURSTING with sensuality.**

She responded moments later.

**Sorry.**

I clicked my phone off and moved off my bed. I gasped. That pain in my hip was back. Something didn't feel right... at all.

"Mom?" I called. She poked her head inside my doorway .

"Can we please go see Dr. Morrison? Now?"

* * *

**Oh dear here comes the hard part of this story... :/ will update soon! Please comment and review. Thanks!**

**Okay?**

**~Wallflower95**


	8. Chapter 7

**Hey everyone, this was a hard to chapter to write... I remember back when I first read The Fault in Our Stars I imagined Augustus finding out about his relapse... it was awful. And now I'm writing it... I am so sorry about the feels you will endure during this chapter!**

**~Wallflower95**

* * *

**7**

I don't like hospitals. Well, who likes hospitals? No one. Not a soul on this earth likes hospitals. Even the people who work there don't like hospitals. I don't like them for many reason. Seeing sick people. People suffering. Needles and all that. If you ask some other people they'll probably say the scariest thing at a hospital is getting a needle stuck in you or something like being next to dying people. To me the scariest thing at the hospital is the waiting. Waiting to hear some good news or some bad news. Waiting is the worst part. And that's what I'm doing. Waiting.

I leaning against the wall with my legs swinging back and forth and hitting the examining table. My mom sits in the waiting chair next to the bed. I knew something was wrong. I could feel it but every hope in me was praying that it was nothing. That I was fine. Unfortunately, the world is not exactly a wish-granting factory. After and hour and a half of waiting, Dr. Morrison came in.

I knew right there that it wasn't good news. I could see it in his eyes. Mom couldn't.

"I'm so sorry again for the last minute appointment Dr. Morrison. Augustus insisted. He his completely healthy we know." My mom said with a smile. Dr. Morrison didn't respond. Instead he lifted a film and put it on the screen. It looked like a Christmas tree. My mom was frozen. I was lit up like a Christmas tree. Dr. Morrison sighed.

"I am so sorry." He was explaining something to my mom. She had her hand on her mouth and she was shaking her head. I didn't hear much. Relapse. Everywhere. Radiation. Chemo. Everywhere.

I looked at the picture and I just couldn't get over the fact that I was lit up like a Christmas tree.

* * *

I stepped out of the room while Dr. Morrison and Mom talked. Probably discussing what kind of chemical drugs they'd put into my body. I didn't want to talk about it. I just felt like there was no point in fighting it. I was angry that it came back. When I was first diagnosed I was told that ninety out ten survived Osteasarcoma. Ninety out of ten. Was I really in that ten area? I took out my phone and went through my contacts and pressed Hazel Grace's number.

I didn't want to tell her that I was probably dying. I just wanted to hear her voice. The sound of crying answered.

"Hazel Grace?"

* * *

I didn't explain why we were going to Children's hospital and mom didn't ask any questions. The car hadn't even stopped at the entrance and I was already out the door. I headed straight for the ICU. There was a nurse on duty at the front desk. ICU has strict rules about family only in there. I watched as she grabbed a pile of papers and headed into the back room. I hobbled through the hallway and searched for her. She wasn't far. I entered her room and there she was.

It was quiet, the only sound in the room was the machinery attached to her. I sat down beside and I just looked at her. She's so beautiful. Really. I wouldn't bullshit this. She is beautiful. Her mom has said her lungs had been full of water. I looked at her unconscious figure. Her eyes closed. Her skin pale. Her fingers colored the blue black color. What would the world be like if we both just vanished? What if the cancer caught up to us we were no longer suffering person-hood?

What would that world be like?

I took her hand in mine and I kissed it. Above her head was a clear plastic bag, dripping into was cancer water.

And right there I wished that she would die so she would never find out I was dying as well. But then, I want time to fall in love with Hazel Grace because I really did love her and I wanted her to know that.

No, we can't go yet. I want more time. I want to leave my mark in the world. I want to fall in love with Hazel Grace.

"Excuse me, you can't be in here." A voice said behind me. I didn't answer at first.

"Will she be okay?" I asked. The guy sighed.

"She's still taking on a lot of water." He said. She's alive and that's all that mattered. I kissed her hand one more time, thanked the nurse and left the room.

* * *

It's been about a week and a half since I found out about the whole cancer coming back. I know my parents want to ta to me about the whole relapse thing but talking about it made me want to throw up. I still went to school. I still did normal Augustus things. I even emailed Peter Van Houten in my spare time.

_**Dear Mr. Van Houten,**_

_**Have you ever been in love? I have. I am. See, love can sometimes be difficult. Of course there are the usual arguments and drama problems. And then there are some cancer problems. I love Hazel Grace and I cannot un-love her. What she wants is to spare me pain because she is a ticking bomb waiting to explode. I have been through hell and back during my time with cancer and all I want is to be with her. **_

_**I want to love her but she pushes me away. How can I un-love someone? I know I can't save her. But I can be there for her when she explodes.**_

_**Yours truly,**_

_**Augustus Waters**_

He replied the next day. I folded his reply and put into my pocket.

One afternoon I was playing video games with Isaac. He had been going on and on about Monica breaking up with him again.

"I relapsed." I said out loud. That made him shut up.

"What?" I sighed.

"You should have seen my PET scan Isaac. It was like a Christmas tree." I said as I put an unlit cigarette in my mouth.

"Shit." Isaac said. He dropped his controller and my player got dropped by a dozen bullets. The words Game Over flashed on the screen. I looked over at Isaac.

"What the hell man? You're supposed to have my back." But Isaac didn't respond to that. He just looked at me.

"You relapsed?" I nodded.

"When?"

"Last week."

"Dude..." I shrugged my shoulders and went back to the game.

"It's not a big deal Isaac. Relapses happen all the time." But Isaac wasn't in the game anymore. He was somewhere else. Soon, I left to see Hazel Grace. Her parent said she was just recovering and all. I had been in the waiting room most days. Hoping to see her. Today, I got to. Mr. Lancaster lead me into her room. I felt a huge grin spread across my face. She looked like shit but I didn't care.

I sat down and leaned towards her.

"I missed you." I said. Her voice came out small and weak.

"Thanks for not trying to see me when I looked like hell." She said with a small smile.

"To be fair, you still look pretty bad." That got her to laugh.

"I missed you, too. I just don't want you to see... all this. I just want, like... It doesn't matter. You don't always get what you want." She said.

"Is that so? I'd always thought the world was a wish-granting factory."

"Turns out that is not the case." She said. God she was beautiful. I reached for her hand but she shook her head.

"No. If we're going to hang out, it has to be, like, not that."

"Okay." I said, although I was a little disappointed.

"Well, I have good news and band news on the wish-granting front."

"Okay?"

"The bad news is that we obviously can't go to Amsterdam until you're better. The Genies will however, work their famous magic when you're well enough."

"That's the good news?"

"No, the good news is that while you were sleeping, Peter Van Houten shared a bit more of his brilliant brain with us." I reached for her hand and slipped the piece of paper that had his reply on it. I gave her another big smile and left.

* * *

**Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Before I sign off I just want to let you all know that I have finally published 'The Promises We Keep'. It is yet another tfios fanfiction of mine and it features the one and only Peter Van Houten before he became the author of AIA. It's sort of a prequel to The Fault in Our Stars. Please check it out and let me know what you think!:) Comment and review. Thanks guys!**

**~Wallflower95**


	9. Chapter 8

**Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated in a bit. I've been super busy with work and then busy prepping for the holidays. Its busy. So, if you've been reading my Hunger Games story (Here I Lie) be sure to check it out. I posted the very last two chapters earlier. It was a very sad occasion for me... :'( Also, if you like How To Train Your Dragon and Rise of the Guardians please check out my crossover called 'Frost &amp; Flames' featuring Hiccup, Toothless, Astrid and Jack Frost! **

**Hope you all like this chapter:) Please comment and review!**

**~Wallflower95**

* * *

**8**

Hazel Grace said that she was heading into a big Cancer Team Meeting with her doctors which is basically what my parents are doing with me right now. They sat me down and the kitchen table and they both sat across from me, looking at me very seriously.

"I haven't done any drugs or gone drinking or anything." I joked, holding my hands up. They didn't even crack a smile.

"Augustus..." My dad started to say.

"The Dr. Morrison insists on starting up the Chemo and radiation right away." My mom said. I shook my head.

"Nope. No way." I said.

"Why not?"

"I am seventeen years old. It's my body and I decide when to put poison into it." I said.

"Augustus...

"No. End of discussion." And I headed downstairs to my room and I didn't go back up. I knew it was kind of childish to storm away like that. I swear I'm not throwing a tantrum. I just knew that it wasn't going to work. None of it was going to work. I could feel it. All I want is to live the the life I had now without and poison in me.

That night I called Hazel Grace. She picked up.

"Bad news."

"Shit, what?"

"I can't go to Amsterdam. One of my doctors thinks it's a bad idea." I was quiet for a second.

"God. I should've just paid for it myself . Should've just taken you straight from Funky Bones to Amsterdma."

"But then I would've had a probably fatal episode of deoxygenation in Amsterdam, and my body would have been shipped home in the cargo hold of an airplane." She said.

"Well, yeah. But before that my grand romantic gesture would have totally gotten me laid." She laughed on the other end.

"You laugh because it's true." I said. She laughed again.

"It's true isn't it!"

"Probably not. Although you never know." She said. I moaned.

"I'm gonna die a virgin."

"You're a virgin?"

"Hazel Grace, do you have a pen and a piece of paper." She did.

"Okay, please draw a circle." I instructed.

"Now draw a smaller circle within that circle." She did.

"The larger circle is virgins. The smaller circle is seventeen year old guys with one leg." She laughed again. We talked for a while longer and then she left.

* * *

The next morning I left for school early so I wouldn't have to run into my parents. It was the usual boring stuff. Who knows? Maybe I'd be gone before I even graduate.

After school, I checked my phone and saw that Hazel Grace tried to call. I called back.

"Hi." She said.

"Hazel Grace."

"Hi." She said again. I frowned.

"Are you crying, Hazel Grace?"

"Kind of?"

"Why?"

"Cause I'm just- I want to go to Amsterdam, and I want him to tell me what happens after the book is over, and I just don't want my particular life, and also the sky is depressing me, and there is this old swing set out here that my dad made for me when I was a kid."

"I must see this old swing set of tears immediately. I'll be over in twenty minutes."

* * *

I said hi to Mrs. Lancaster in the kitchen and then I headed out to the backyard where Hazel Grace was.

"Hi." She said. I bent down and tried to sit down slowly. I felt the pain in my hip but I ignored it. I landed painfully and rather ungracefully on my ass next to Hazel Grace.

"Hi." I said finally. I looked towards the swing set.

"I see your point. That is one sad goddamned swing set." She nudged my shoulder with her head.

"Thanks for offering to come over."

"You realize that trying to keep your distance from me will not lessen my affection for you." I said to her.

"I guess?"

"All efforts to save me from you will fail." Because, I thought, maybe you're not the grenade anymore.

"Why? Why would you even like me? Haven't you put yourself through enough of this?" Caroline's face flashed through my mind. I didn't answer. I just held onto her.

"We gotta do something about this frigging swing set. I'm telling you, it's ninety percent of the problem." We then headed inside and sat down on the couch right next to each other with her laptop half on her leg and half on my fake leg.

"Hot." She said. I flashed my crooked smile.

"Is it now?" I loaded up this website called Free No Catch and together we wrote an ad for the sad little swing set.

"Headline?"

"'Swing Set Needs Home.'"

"'Desperately Lonely Swing Set Needs Loving Home." I said.

"'Lonely, Vaguely Pedophilic Swing Set Seeks the Butts of Children.'" I laughed.

"That's why."

"What?"

"That's why I like you. Do you realize how rare it is to come across a hot girl who creates an adjective version of the word pedophile? You are so busy being you that you have no idea how utterly unprecedented you are." Together, we wrote an ad for the swing set

_**Desperately Lonely Swing Set Needs Loving Home**_

_**One swing set, well worn but structurally sound, seeks new home. Make memories with your kid or kids so that someday he or she or they will look into the backyard and feel the ache of sentimentality as desperately as I did this afternoon. It's fragile and fleeting, dear reader, but with this swing set , your child(ren) will be introduced to the ups and downs of human life gently and safely, and may also learn the most important lesson of all: No matter how hard you kick, no matter how high you get, you can't go all the way around.**_

_**Swing Set currently resides near 83rd and Spring Mill.**_

After that, we turned on the TV for a little while but we didn't find anything good to watch so Hazel Grace grabbed her copy of 'An Imperial Affliction' and I read out loud to her. Hazel Grace checked her email an hour later and it turns out we had a great selection of swing set suitors to choose from. In the end, we chose this game named Daniel Alverez who sent a picture of his kids playing video game with a subject line below:_ I just want them to go outside._

She emailed him back telling him to pick it up at his leisure. I looked at the time and realized I had to meet Isaac at his crappy support group thing. I asked Hazel Grace if she'd come with but she was tired.

I pushed myself up to go but then fell back down_. __ Oh what the hell._ And I kissed Hazel Grace on the cheek.

"Augustus!"

"Friendly." I said. I pushed myself back up and took two steps towards Mrs. Lancaster.

"Always a pleasure to see you." I said. She held her arms open for a hug but I kissed her on the cheek as well.

"See?" I said, looking at Hazel Grace.

* * *

The next day, during lunch I got a text from Hazel Grace.

**Still free May three? :-)**

I replied.

**Everything's coming up Waters.**

I sat back in my seat and smiled. The Amsterdam trip is on!


	10. Chapter 9

**Hey guys! How was everyone's holiday? I'm sorry this update is coming so late. It's been super busy with the holiday and then family and friends. Crazy! Anyways, here is chapter 9:) I would like to thank Anonymous for the advice. Reading back on this story so far I realize everything has been really rushed and I don't want to do that. I want all of you to get to Augustus more. So here is The Fault in His Stars slowed down :) hope you enjoy! Please comment and review!**

**~Wallflower95**

* * *

**9**

The day before we were supposed to leave for Amsterdam, Isaac called.

"Hey."

"Hey man. How are you?"

"Do swell my friends. How are your eyes?"

"No longer in my head."

"So listen, I'm heading support group. Want to come?" I hesitated. I wanted to be there to support Isaac. He was going through a lot with the whole being blind thing and Monica leaving him. I wanted to go but I had a doctor's appointment.

"Ah wish I could man but my parents want to do something as a family." I said. I hated lying to him but I didn't want him to worry. It was my problem not his.

"I bet Hazel is going to be there." I really did want to go. I wanted to see Hazel Grace even though I was spending time with her in Amsterdam tomorrow. And of course I wanted to go for Isaac as well. I shook my head.

"No, I'm sorry Isaac." He sighed on the other end.

"Alright. Suit yourself." He hung up. I sighed. I had refused to go to today's appointment. My parents are really pushing medications. The Chemo and the radiation. The works. But I don't want it. I don't want any of it. I like being me. I don't want my mind to poisoned with all of that. I know. I just know that none of its going to work. Both of my parents so my PET scan. They say me lit up like a Christmas tree and yet they still held on to hope that I'd miraculously recover. That I'd pull through. But I knew from the looks of that scan that I might bite into it. That cancer was made of me and there was nothing I couldn't do anything about it.

I sat in the backseat of our car in absolute silence. Every once in a while my mom would look back through the rear view mirror. But I couldn't look into her eyes because I've made my decision. I didn't want to go through Chemo and radiation. I can't do it.

Even when we were in the doctor's office and Dr. Morrison droned on and on about everything they could do to fight the cancer. Both of my parents were listening intently to every word. They clung to each word as if it were a lifeline but all I heard was try try try try. He never said anything would work for sure. Because he can't. Nothing would work. None of it.

"We can start all of this tomorrow." I stood up.

"No."

"Augustus. You are very sick."

"Yeah I know that. I'm saying I don't want any of this." Dr. Morrison was quiet. Both of my parents were looking at me.

"Gus..."

"No. I'm going to Amsterdam tomorrow. I can't start it then. I'll start after Amsterdam." That's when my parents jumped.

"Augustus we need to follow the doctor's orders."

"It's my body. My life. My choice. I'm going to Amsterdam tomorrow." And I walked out of the room without looking back at their shocked expressions.

* * *

I put my suitcase by the bottom of the stairs in my room and I sat down on the bed, waiting for my ride. When we had gotten home yesterday everyone had been quiet and tense. I had gone to my room without another word. I sighed and grabbed my suitcase and started the long way upstairs. When I got there my parents were waiting for me in the kitchen. I smiled at them and held out my arms.

"Bye! Love you both." I said happily. They didn't react.

"Well, I better be off. Hazel Grace will be here soon." I headed to the front door with my parents trailing behind me. On my suitcase was a blue button down shirt and then a green polo shirt. I was wearing a plain white t shirt and jeans. I held out the two shirts.

"Which one?" I asked my mom. My mom gently took them from my hands and put them back on my suitcase.

"Don't go Gus." She said softly. I shook my head and backed away from her.

"No mom. Don't."

"Augustus we want what's best for you." My dad said.

"Then listen to me." I said. My mom looked close to tears.

"If we don't get this done the cancer will get worse." I laughed.

"Did you see the scan mom? It's already bad!" Tears rolled down her cheeks. I don't want to do this to my parents. They've done everything for me. They were there when I was in basketball. They were there when Caroline died. They were there when I was first diagnosed with cancer. See, parents will do anything to keep their kids safe. Even if the kid doesn't want them to. I know they want to help me but they can't. You can't save someone who can't be saved.

"Please stay Augustus." She said. I shook my head.

"I am going to Amsterdam."

"You are staying here!" She cried.

"No."

"Why aren't you listening to us?" She sobbed.

"BECAUSE IT IS MY LIFE, MOM. IT BELONGS TO ME." My dad put his arm around my mother as she cried. I hated myself for yelling at her. Parents just want what's best for their kids. I understand that. But I know what I want right now and I just need them to listen.

"Look, I know that you want what's for me, okay? I get that," They looked at me. "But please understand that this is what I want. I want to go too Amsterdam with Hazel Grace and I know you don't support my decision..." I said slowly. They both had their eyes on me, listening to my every word.

"But please just trust me." I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I looked at it. It was Hazel Grace

**We're outside.**

I looked at my parents. My mom's eyes were red and wet. My dad had a stony expression on his face. My mother nodded.

"Okay Gus." She said to me softly. I gave her a smiled and embraced both of them. The hugged my back without out a word. I replied to Hazel Grace's text.

**Just CAN'T decide what to wear. Do you like me better in a polo or a button-down?**

She replied.

**Button-down.**

I put the blue button-down on and waved goodbye to my parents. The waved back and we didn't say another word. I put a Camel Light in my mouth and opened the door. Hazel Grace was in the passenger seat and Mrs. Lancaster got out to say hi and help me with my bag.

"Always a pleasure to see you, ma'am." Once everything was in the car I opened the backseat door and started the complicated process of getting into the car. When I bent down I felt the familiar cancerous pain in my hip and I thought to myself; _It's not just there. It's everywhere._

"Do you want shotgun?" Hazel Grace asked me. I didn't want her to know. Not yet.

"Absolutely not. And hello, Hazel Grace."

"Hi," She said. She looked back at me with those hypnotizing green eyes. "Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay." Mrs. Lancaster got into the car.

"Next stop, Amsterdam."

* * *

Actually the next stop was the airport parking lot and then airport waiting line and then the plan and so on. The standing in line part made me a little tired. I could feel the pain in my legs but I tried hard to ignore it.

"Observation: Standing in line is a form of oppression. Seriously." I said. Hazel Grace wanted to walk through the metal detector, without her oxygen tank. I watched her as she slipped the tubing off around her ears. She was wearing a pink tank top, jeans and a black cardigan and her chuck taylors. Her hair was tucked behind her ears. She looked as if she was holding her breath as she took the few steps through the machine the declared she was a none metallic person. After ten seconds she sat down on a bench and laced the tubes around her ears and placed the nubbins back in her nose. That's the thing about pain, it demands to be felt. Mrs. Lancaster looked at her with concern in her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Hazel Grace said.

"Amsterdam!" Mrs. Lancaster practically shouted. Hazel Grace smiled.

"Amsterdam."

* * *

We got to the gate about an hour before our scheduled boarding time.

"Mrs. Lancaster, you are an impressively punctual person." I said. I sat down beside Hazel Grace on the bench.

"Well it helps that I am not technically very busy." She said.

"You're plenty busy." Hazel Grace said. Time passed and soon the benches started filling up. People walked by and I felt like they were looking at us. At me. I could feel there eyes on me. My foot started to tap against the ground impatiently. Why weren't the calling us in.

"I'm gonna get a hamburger before we leave. Can I get you anything?" I asked Hazel Grace. I knew it was close to boarding time but I just had to get out of there. Everyone was just looking at us as if we had some disease... which we did.

"No," She said, "but I do appreciate your refusal to give in to breakfasty social conventions." I tilted my head, looking at her in complete and utter confusion. Mrs. Lancaster leaned forwards.

"Hazel has developed an issue with the ghettoization of scrambled eggs." She said.

"It's embarrassing that we all walk through life blindly accepting that scrambled eggs are fundamentally associated with mornings." Hazel Grace said. I smiled. God she's amazing.

"I want to talk about this more," I said. "But I am starving. I'll be right back." And I walked away. I headed down towards the McDonalds in the airport. The line wasn't super busy and I had some time so I leaned against the wall and took out my phone. I called Isaac. He answered on the third ring.

"Hello?"

"Update #1, I am really going to miss American food." I said with a smile.

"You're only going for a few days, Gus. I'm sure you'll survive."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Don't joke about that." Isaac said seriously.

"Sorry." I changed the subject.

"I am about to have a very serious conversation with Hazel Grace over the ghettoization of eggs." I said.

"Wait, what?"

"See, she was saying that eggs should not always be associated with the breakfast group which I can understand. Its a stereotype when you really thing about it. But then she's forgetting eggs in other meals like egg salad sandwiches. I mean, that's a lunch related meal." I said.

"What are you talking about?" Isaac asked on the other end.

"Many things my friend." Isaac sighed.

"Funny. Well, have fun in Amsterdam with your girlfriend." Isaac said.

"She's not my girlfriend," I said. "Well, she doesn't want that. She doesn't want to put me in that kind of position because she think she'll hurt me if she bites it from cancer... but I guess I'll be the one hurting her now, won't I?" Isaac was quiet on the other end.

"You should just not think about that and go enjoy your trip." Isaac said. I sighed.

"You're right."

"Of course I am. I'm a freaking genius." Isaac said. I laughed. I heard them announce our flight number over the PA.

"I gotta go. See you."

"Bye." I hung up and quickly bought a sandwich. As I was attempting to speed walk all the way back to our gate, I received a text from Hazel Grace.

**Where are you?**

I didn't reply. I tried walking faster. I could feel my chest on fire. My lungs working too hard. The pain in my hip spreading down to my legs. For a moment I worried that something might happen in Amsterdam. What if it ruined the trip. I shook my head. No. I won't let that happen. Just as someone was announcing that they were preboarding people who might need extra time to get on the plane, I reached Hazel Grace.

"Where were you?" She asked.

"Line was super long, sorry." I lied. I wanted to slap myself for saying that. I offered her my hand and pulled her up. Why did I have to lie? Just say that you didn't want people staring at you. As we made our way into boarding I could feel everyone in the boarding area watching us as we made the slow trek up there. I reached our row on the plane and I took the seat by the window. Once we were settled in, other people started streaming into the plan. I started unwrapping my burger. The smell of it making my mouth water.

"The thing about eggs, though," I started to say. "is that breakfastization gives the scrambled egg a certain sacrality, right? You can get yourself some bacon and cheddar cheese anywhere anytime, from tacos to breakfast sandwiches to grilled cheese, but scrambled eggs- they're important." Hazel Grace shook her head.

"Ludicrous." She said, staring at me.

"I'm just saying: Maybe scrambled eggs are ghettoized, but they're also special. They have a place and a time, like church does." I said.

"You couldn't be more wrong," She said. "You are buying into the cross-stitched sentiments of your parents' throw pillows. You're arguing that the fragile, rare thing is beautiful simply because it is fragile and rare. But that's a lie, and you know it." She said. I smiled.

"You're a hard person to comfort."

"Easy comfort isn't comforting. You were a rare and fragile flower once. You remember." I was silent for a moment and then I smiled at her.

"You do know how to shut me up, Hazel Grace."

"It's my privilege and responsibility." She said. Before she could turn away from me I started talking again.

"Listen, sorry I avoided the gate area. The McDonald's line wasn't really long; I just... I just didn't want to sit there with all those people looking at us or whatever."

"At me, mostly." She said. Was it that? People probably looked at Hazel Grace and wondered why she had to drag the tank behind her. Me? I could hide my disease from the world. If you looked at me you probably wouldn't notice anything wrong with me.

"Augustus Waters, noted charismatist, is embarrassed to sit next to a girl with an oxygen tank." She said.

"Not embarrassed," I said. "They just piss me off sometimes. And I don't want to be pissed off today." I dug into my pocket and flipped open my pack of cigarettes. Seconds later a blond stewardess practically ran over to our row.

"Sir, you can't smoke on this plan. Or any plane." She said with a distressed look on her face.

"I don't smoke." I said with the cigarette dancing in my mouth. She just looked at me.

"But-"

"It's a metaphor," Hazel Grace said. "He puts the killing in his mouth but doesn't give it the power to kill him." She looked right at us with a confused expression on her face.

"Well, that metaphor is prohibited on today's flight." She said. I nodded and put the cigarette back in it's pack.

* * *

**How was it? Let me know! I appreciate all feedback:) Thanks and if I don't update later soon I hope you all have a great New Year's Day! **

**Okay?**

**~Wallflower95**


	11. Chapter 10

**Happy new year everyone! I am so sorry about these updates. My time is very limited now because I am working literally every day. I hope to update at least every week. That's my goal. Anyways, how was everyone's holiday? Got any new year resolutions you want to complete?**

**I just want to say thank you to each and every one of you for all your comments and feedback on this story! I apreciate everything! And you have any thoughts or feedback you would like to provide for me please don't be afraid to tell me! I welcome all feedback so I can make this story the best! :)**

**Thanks guys and enjoy the chapter!**

**Okay?**

**~Wallflower95**

* * *

**10**

Okay. I'm not afraid of flying. I'm not. I mean, I can't be because I've never actually been in a plane before. Never in my life. We didn't go on many vacation's pre-cancer and when we did it was always road trips so there was no point in getting into an aircraft that may or may not crash to take you to your destination. I felt the plane engines roaring to life. We were at the runway. I was gripping the the arm rest while looking out the window, watching the airport disappear behind us. We began to accelerate. My knuckles were white from gripping the arm rest. I leaned back in my seat.

"This is what it feels like to drive in a car with you." Hazel Grace said. I smiled but was to busy clenching my jaw to reply.

"Okay?" She said to me. We picked up speed. My hand fell on Hazel Grace's hand that was resting on the arm rest. I look out the window in shock.

"Okay?" She said again. I barely heard her.

"Are you scared of flying?"

"I'll tell you in a minute." I said. I leaned back in my seat and we were in the air. I felt my ears pop. I realized I was holding my breath. I breathed out slowly through my mouth and I leaned forwards to look out the window. Indianapolis was below us. So small I could wipe it out with my finger. Is this real? I felt a big grin spread across my face and I relaxed a bit.

"We are flying." I said out loud. Wow that sounded idiotic but at the moment I didn't really care. We are flying.

"You've never been on a plane before?" I shook my head.

"LOOK!" I shouted. I'm pretty sure every head in the plane turned towards the crazy guy shouting out the window. Oh wait, that's me.

"Yeah, I see it. It looks like we're on a plane." Hazel Grace said. The earth below us shrank. Like it was the same toy miniature set I used to play with when I younger.

"NOTHING HAS EVER LOOKED LIKE THAT EVER IN ALL OF HUMAN HISTORY!"

I was looking out the window at the miniature toy world when I felt Hazel Grace lean towards me and kissed my cheek. And then I realized, I'm on a plane sitting next to Hazel Grace heading towards Amsterdam.

"Just so you know, I'm right here. Sitting next to you. Your mother. Who held your hand as you took your first infantile steps." Mrs. Lancaster said.

"It's friendly." Hazel Grace said as she leaned towards her mother for a kiss.

"Didn't feel too friendly." I mumbled with a small smile on my lips. I saw her smile, knowing that she heard my comment. This is what I wanted. I know that there's no stopping my cancer. I all I want is to fall in love with Hazel Grace.

* * *

We were soon on another plane in Detroit that would take us straight to Amsterdam. Once the plane was off and we were above our small world we played a romantic comedy movie. We tried timing it just right, being synchronized in our pressing play but my movie started a few seconds before hers. Although I was watching the movie, just out of the corner of my eyes I watched Hazel Grace watching her movie. I saw a small smile on her lips. Her green eyes reflecting the movie screen. For a moment, I saw her glance at me. I tried not to look right at her. She looked back at her screen, the small smile still on her lips.

Mrs. Lancaster and this grand idea that we'd take sleeping pills and sleep for the rest of the flight so we'd be right to take on Amsterdam as soon as we got there. Within seconds of taking the pill, Mrs. Lancaster was out. I guess for two teenagers who've been drugged up a lot at hospitals don't really get knocked by sleeping pills like normal people.

The two of us stayed up, looking out the window. It was a clear day, and although the sun was not setting where we were, it was setting somewhere else.

"God, that is beautiful." Hazel Grace said.

"'The risen sun too bright in her losing eyes.'" I said, reciting a line from An Imperial Affliction.

"But it's not rising."

"It's rising somewhere." I answered.

"Observation: It would be awesome to fly in a superfast airplane that could chase the sunrise around the world for a while."

"Also, I'd live longer." She said. I looked at her, probably with a stupid questioning look on my face.

"You know, because of relativity or whatever." I'm still confused. God, she is way to smart for me. Honestly I feel like a moron next to her. Especially cause I'm a year older and she's the one who's in college and I'm still in high school. How embarrassing.

"We age slower when we move quickly versus standing still. So right now time is passing slower for us than for people on the ground." She said. I smiled at her.

"College chicks. They're so smart." She rolled her green eyes. I hit her with my actual real knee and she hit me back with her knee.

"Are you sleepy?"

"Not at all."

"Yeah. Me neither." She said. Same for her, drugs just don't work on us anymore.

"Want to watch another movie?" I asked. "They've got a Portman movie from her Hazel era." I said.

"I want to watch something you haven't seen."

We ended watching this movie called _300_. A war movie about 300 Spartans who protect Sparta from and invading army of Persians. A movie about blood, sacrifice, glory and victory. It was like Max Mayhem meets _300\. _My movie started before Hazel Grace's again. In the movie, some guy got his hand chopped off.

"Dang!" I said out loud. It was a glorious movie and I was really enjoying myself.

"Fatality!" After some time, Hazel Grace leaned over and put her head against my shoulder so she could watch my movie. I smiled a little when I felt her head against my shoulder. Towards the end of the movie, when it was getting really awesome, Hazel Grace spoke.

"How many dead people do you think there are?" I waved at her, trying not to be rude. I just couldn't miss this incredible ending.

"Shh. Shh. This is getting awesome." I said. The Persians were literally climbing a mountain of bodies, fighting the Spartans until there was no one left. It was amazing. I felt Hazel Grace's head lift off my shoulder as I watched the movie. She was watching me watch the movie. I didn't mind.

Once the credits were rolling I took off my headphones and looked at Hazel Grace.

"Sorry, I was awash in the nobility of sacrifice. What were you saying?"

"How many dead people do you think there are?" She repeated.

"Like, how many fictional people died in the fictional movie? Not enough." I joked.

"No, I mean, like, ever. Like, how many people do you think have ever died?" I smiled because happen to know the answer to that question. Grade 12 student to the rescue!

"I happen to know the answer to that question," I said proudly. "There are seven billion living people, and about ninety-eight billion dead people." I said. Hazel Grace's expression practically fell.

"Oh." She said.

"There are about about fourteen dead people for every living person." The movie credits kept rolling and Hazel Grace was still leaning against my shoulder, pondering what I have said.

"I did some research on this a couple of years ago. I was wondering if everybody could be remembered. Like, if we got organized, and assigned a certain number of corpses to each living person, would there be enough living people to remember all the dead people?" I had done this research during my diagnosis. At time, I was afraid cancer was going to win and I had wanted to make sure that maybe, just maybe the memory of me would be remember by enough people who actually gave a damn about me.

"And are there?" She asked me.

"Sure, anyone can name fourteen dead people. But we're disorganized mourners, so a lot of people end up remembering Shakespeare, and no one ends up remembering the person he wrote Sonnet Fifty-five about."

"Yeah." There was a moment of silence.

"You want to read something?" I blurted out. I wanted to kick myself (again). Why ask her that? Stupid. I just wanted to listen to her voice. She has this voice that just makes you want to stop and listen forever.

Hazel Grace was reading this super long poem called Howl by Allen Ginsberg for her poetry class while I was re-reading An Imperial Affliction.

"Is it any good?" I ask her.

"The poem?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah it's great. The guys in the poem take even more drugs than I do. How's AIA?"

"Still perfect," I said. It's true. This book is... amazing. "Read to me."

"This isn't really a poem to read aloud when you are sitting next to your sleeping mother. It has, like, sodomy and angel dust in it." Hazel Grace said. I supressed a laugh. This girl never ceases to amaze me.

"You just named two of my favorite pastimes. Okay, read me something else?"

"Um," She looked nervous, shy even. "I don't have anything else?"

"That's too bad. I am so in the mood for poetry. Do you have anything memorized?"

"'Let us go then, you and I," She began reciting nervously. "'When the evening is spread out against the sky/ Like a patient etherized upon a table."

"Slower."

"Um, okay. Okay. Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, / The muttering retreats / Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels / And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shell: / Streets that follow like a tedious argument / Of insidious intent / To lead you to an overwhelming question... / Oh, do not ask, "What is it?" / Let us go and make our visit.'"

It was like I was transported into another world when she spoke. I suddenly wasn't on the plane. Her voice, so soft and gentle. So beautiful.

"I'm in love with you." I said quietly.

"Augustus."

"I am." I said, staring right into her green eyes. She is so beautiful.

"I'm in love with you, and I'm not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I'm in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout in the void, and oblivion is inevitable, and that we're all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we'll ever have, and I am in love with you."

There. I said it. I don't care if I'm dying... I love Hazel Grace. I love how she's smarter than me and that she's funny and beautiful and she doesn't even know it. I like that she's a vegitarian so she can minimize the deaths she responsible for and I like she just herself and she doesn't try hard to fit in. I like that she is Hazel Grace. She is perfect in every way.

"Augustus." She said quietly. She looked sad. She doesn't want to be with me, to spare me. What she doesn't realize is she won't be hurting me at all. I will be hurting her. I don't want to do that to her but all I know is I want to spend the rest of my living days with her.

She just looked at me and I looked at her and then I turned away, pretending to sleep. I don't expect her to say anything now. She just needs time. All I want is for the trip to go well.


	12. Chapter 11

**Hey guys! Sorry for all the late updates. It's been super busy! I just want you guys to know that I am still continuing this story and I am not giving up. We're are going all the way to the end! My updates are a lot less frequent then usual though and for that I am really sorry :(**

**I hope you all like this chapter! We are in Amsterdam now:) enjoy and please comment and review. Loving all your feedback!**

**Okay?**

**~Wallflower95**

* * *

**11**

I woke up to my mouth tasting awful and sunlight streaming in from the window. And then I remembered I was on a plane. The sky was streaked with orange and pink and the clouds were vast. We were so close to them I felt as if I could reach out and touch them. Down below was the ground and it was so green. I felt Hazel Grace stir beside me. I felt the plane sink lower, the clouds rising above us as we went for the runway. We finally touched on solid earth. I relaxed. _I'm alive... for now._

After hunting down our bags and clearing through customs the three of us piled in a taxi driven by some hobo looking bald guy. We were all exhausted and sore from the long plane ride.

"The Hotel Filosoof?" Hazel Grace said to the driver.

"You are Americans?" He said.

"'Yes.'" Mrs. Lancaster said. "'We're from Indiana."

"Indiana. They steal the land from the Indians and leave the name, yes?"

"Something like that." Mrs. Lancaster said. The cabbie guy pulled out into traffic and we were off towards our destination. I thought traffic was bad back home. Man was I wrong. Beside the highway we were on there was empty land that stretched out for miles. A few buildings here and there.

"This is Amsterdam?" Hazel Grace asked.

"Yes and no." The cabbie said as we exited the highway. There were rows and rows of houses right on the canal. People were there in the canal, greeting each other for the day. The sunlight peeking out from behind the clouds made the canal water glow. It was an amazing sight. The scene looked like a painting that could be in a museum.

"Are these houses very old?" Mrs. Lancaster asked.

"Many of the canal houses date from the Golden Age, the seventeenth century," he said. "Our city has rich history, even though many tourists are only waiting to see the Red Light District." He paused. "Some tourists think Amsterdam is a city of sin, but in truth it is a city of freedom. And in freedom, most people find sin."

* * *

We were told that all the rooms in the Hotel Filosoof were named after filosoofers (I have no idea what that means). Mrs. Lancaster and Hazel Grace were staying on the ground floor in the Kierkegaard and I'm on the floor above in the Heidegger. My room wasn't terribly big. As you opened the door there was a single bed big enough for two on the left. Further ahead was the window overlooking the canal. To the right was the bathroom and next to the bed was a wardrobe. It was great.

I threw my suitcase in front of the wardrobe and threw myself onto the bed. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out.

* * *

Couple hours later there was a knock at the door. I rolled off the bed and groaned as my hip throbbed. _Deep breaths._ I closed my eyes and stood up. Its just demands to be felt. I opened the door. Mrs. Lancaster smiled.

"Afternoon ma'am." I said. Mrs. Lancaster smiled.

"Good afternoon, Augustus." She said.

"Where's Hazel Grace?"

"She's just sleeping." I nodded.

"You two have a dinner reservation tonight at a restaurant called Oranjee. Compliments of Mr. Peter Van Houten." She said.

"I'm liking this guy more and more." I said with a smile. She handed me some papers and a guidebook.

"Here are the directions to the restaurant. It's not far. It's a very _nice_ restaurant." She said. I nodded and smiled.

"Well, of course. Thanks Mrs. Lancaster." And I closed the door. I opened my suitcase and pulled out my suit. It's suit meant for... special occasions and I guess this being one of those. I buttoned up the blue dress shirt on with a black tie. When I was ready, I slipped a cigarette into my mouth and I headed downstairs and knocked on her door.

"Hello?" Her voice called through the door. I smiled.

"Okay." I answered, the cigarette dancing in my mouth. The door was pulled open and standing in the doorway as radiant as the sun was Hazel Grace. My ciagarette almost fell out of my mouth. She was wearing a blue print sundress, flowey and knee length with tight and mary jane shoes. Her hair was brushed and looked mid 2000 Natalie Portman. Her green eyes stared back at me.

"Hazel Grace," I breathed out. "You look gorgeous." She opened her mouth to say something. She looked down at her shoes shyly.

"I feel under dressed."

"Ah, this old thing?" I said, smiling down at her.

"Augustus," Mrs. Lancaster said from behind Hazel Grace. "you look extremely handsome."

"Thank you, ma'am." I held out my arm, offering it to Hazel Grace. She took it gingerly and looked back at her mom.

"See you by eleven."

* * *

Waiting for the tram Hazel Grace asked me,

"The suit you wear to funerals, I assume?"

"Actually, no." I said. "That suit isn't nearly this nice." I said. The tram arrived, I handed our cards to the driver and he explained to me in very rusty English that I had to wave them in front of a machine. I guess this kind of one of the reasons I don't care much for travelling. When you go too another country you feel like a complete idiot. The tram was completely crowded and there wasn't really anywhere to sit. As we walked down the aisle an old man stood up and offered us seats together. Hazel Grace tried to decline his offer but he insisted. We rode the tram for three stops, Hazel Grace leaned over towards me and we both looked out the window. I was staring at the trees as something, seeds maybe, flew off the branches making it look like it was snowing. I pointed to them.

"Do you see that?" I said to Hazel Grace. They were like delicate looking petals dancing in the wind. The old man who offered us the seats explained to us in English;

"Amsterdam's spring snow. The iepen throw confetti to greet the spring." We switched trams and after four more stops we arrived at the restaurant. Oranjee had outdoor seating next to the canal. The iepen falling into the canal. It looked like another picture in a museum. As we approached, the hostess's eyes lit up when we walked towards her,

"Mr. and Mrs. Waters?"

"I guess?"

"Your table." She said, gesturing across the street to narrow table inches from the canal.

"The champagne is our gift." She said. I glanced at Hazel Grace and we smiled at each other. I pulled the seat out for Hazel Grace and she sat down, tucking the oxygen tank under seat. There were two flutes of champagne resting on our table. The sun slowly setting in the sky, making the sky orange and pink. People on the street were dress in business suits, walking home from work. Cyclist pedaled past. The canal was covered in the iepen. It fell from the sky above us. We each took a flute of champagne and we looked at each other, clinking our glasses together.

"Okay," I said.

"Okay." I'm not much of drinker. Once I had some of my dad's beer and I had thought the smell was awful. I had always been invited to school parties that involved drinking but I had always declined the offers. It wasn't something I had wanted to participate in. But when I took a sip of that champagne, it was like there was an explosion in my mouth. The bubbles danced and popped in my mouth. It was incredible.

"That is really good," Hazel Grace said. "I've never drunk champagne." she said. A sturdy young looking waiter with wavy blonde hair appeared.

"Do you know," He said in a dutch accent. "what Dom Perigon said after inventing champagne?"

"No?"

"He called out to his fellow monks, 'Come quickly: I am tasting the stars.' Welcome to Amsterdam. Would you like to see the menu, or will you have the chef's choice?" I looked at Hazel Grace and she looked at me.

"The chef's choice sounds lovely," _Did I really just say the word 'lovely'?_ "but Hazel is a vegetarian." I said.

"This is not a problem," the waiter said.

"Awesome. And can we get some more of this?" I asked, pointing to the champagne.

"Of course," said the waiter. "We have bottled all the stars this evening, my young friends. Gah, the confetti!" he said, brushing off a petal from Hazel Grace's shoulder.

"It hasn't been so bad in many years. It's everywhere. Very annoying." The waiter disappeared and we watched the confetti fall from the sky.

"Kind of hard to believe anyone could ever find that annoying." I said.

"People always get used to beauty, though." Hazel Grace said. I looked at her.

"I haven't gotten used to you just yet." I answered, smiling at Hazel Grace. Her face turned slightly red and my smile grew bigger.

"Thank you for coming to Amsterdam." I said.

"Thank you for letting me hijack your wish," she said.

"Thank you for wearing that dress which is like, whoa." I said. She shook her head. I could see she was trying hard not smile. She was trying not being a grenade like she said to me a while back. _You're not the grenade anymore Hazel. _I thought.

"Hey, how's that poem end?" I asked, referring to the poem she recited to me on the plane.

"Huh?"

"The one you recited to me on the plane."

"Oh, 'Prufrock'? It ends, 'We have lingered in the chambers of the sea / By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown / Till human voices wake us, and we drown.'"

I pulled out a cigarette and tapped the filter against the table, not that it was extremely necessary to do that.

"Stupid human voices ruining everything." I said. The waiter appeared with, hell yes more champagne and what he called Belgian white asparagus with lavender infusion on a plate. Once he left, I spoke again.

"I've never had champagne either," I said. "In case you were wondering or whatever. Also, I've never had white asparagus." Hazel Grace was chewing her first bite and I her eyes light up.

"It's amazing." I took a bite and swallowed. Wow.

"God. If asparagus tasted like that all the time, I'd be a vegetarian, too." Some people passing by on a boat in the canal were drinking and on their merry way. One of them, a woman with curly blonde hair with a glass of beer raised her glass and shouted something at us.

"We don't speak Dutch." I shouted back. Another person on the boat translated for us.

"The beautiful couple is beautiful." The food was great, the service was great, the champagne was great. Soon Hazel Grace and I were marveling the deliciousness of all the food brought out to us.

"I want this dragon carrot risotto to become a person so I can take it to Las Vegas and marry it."

"Sweet-pea sorbet, you are so unexpectedly magnificent." I wish I could keep eating but I had a fear of bursting out of my suit. After some green garlic gnocchi with red mustard leaves the waiter said,

"Dessert next. More stars first?" The champagne was amazing but I've never been drunk before and I've seen some friends get that way at school. No, I wanted this to be a night to remember.

"Mmmmm." We were both quiet, staring at everything beautiful thing before us and it wasn't an awkward silence either because we had plenty to look at and we were probably to full to even talk.

"It's not my funeral suit," I said after a while. Hazel Grace looked at me. A strand of her hair hung in front of her green eyes. Her cheeks were a rosy pink and her shoulders were relaxed.

"When I first found out I was sick-I mean, they told me I had like an eighty-five percent chance of cure. I know those are great odds, but I kept thinking it was a game of Russian roulette. I mean, I was going to have to go through hell for six months or a year and lose my leg and then at the end, it still might not work, you know?" _And it hasn't worked. It will never work._

"I know." Hazel Grace said.

"Right, so I went through this whole thing about wanting to be ready. We bought a plot in Crown Hill, and I walked around with my dad one day and picked out a spot. And I had my whole funeral planned out and everything, and then right before surgery, I asked my parents if I could buy a suit, like a really nice suit, just in case I bit it. Anyway, I've never had occasion to wear it. Until tonight."

"So it's your death suit."

"Correct. Don't you have a death outfit?"

"Yeah," she said. "It's a dress I bought for my fifteenth birthday party. But I don't wear it on dates." I looked at her.

"We're on a date?" She looked down, her cheeks turning redder.

"Don't push it."

* * *

We waited for a bit before having dessert which was passion fruit surrounded by rich cream. Everything around us was still awake. The sun refused to set, still lingering in the pink and orange sky. I was looking at the sun, wondering.

"Do you believe in afterlife?" I asked.

"I think forever is an incorrect concept." She answered. I smirked at her.

"You're an incorrect concept."

"I know. That's why I'm being taken out of the rotation." I felt my smile disappear and I looked at her hard. The thought of Hazel going before me was unfair and cruel. I'd go before her. I wanted to go before her because her of all people deserved to live. And right then and there I knew I'd go before. All I wanted some time with her. Just a little bit of time.

"That's not funny."

"Come on," she said. "It was a joke."

"The thought of you being removed from the rotation is not funny to me. Seriously though: afterlife?"

"No," she said and then said. "Well, maybe I wouldn't go so far as no. You?"

"Yes," I said, my voice full of confidence. "Yes, absolutely. Not like heaven where you ride unicorns, play harps, and live in a mansion made of clouds. But yes. I believe in Something with a capital 'S'. Always have."

"Really?" She said, sounding surprised.

"Yeah," I said, getting quiet. "I believe in that line from 'An Imperial Affliction'. "'The risen sun too bright in her losing eyes.' That's God, I think, the rising sun, and the light is too bright and her eyes are losing but they aren't lost. I don't believe we return to haunt or comfort the living or anything, but I think something becomes of us."

"But you fear oblivion."

"Sure, I fear earthly oblivion. But, I mean, not to sound like my parents, but I believe humans have souls, and I believe in the conversation of souls. The oblivion fear is something else, fear that I won't be able to give anything in exchange for my life. If you don't live a life in service of a greater good, you've gotta at least die a death in service of a greater good, you know? And I fear that I won't get either a life or death that means anything."

She shook her head.

"What?"

"Your obsession with, like, dying for something or leaving behind some great sign of your heroism or whatever. It's just weird."

"Everyone want to lead an extraordinary life."

"Not everyone." She said. There was no disguising the annoyance in her tone.

"Are you mad?"

"It's just, just." The candle in between on us on the table flickered. "It's really mean of you to say that the only lives that matter are the ones that are lived for something. That's a really mean thing to say to me." She said. She took a bite of the dessert and tried to avert her eyes making it seem like she wasn't upset. But I knew I had upset her.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I was just thinking about myself."

"Yeah, you were." Was I? Was I only thinking of myself and not others? All my life I have worked to be caring and considerate of others but even when I do try, I only think of myself.

"I'm sorry." I reached across the table for her hand.

"I could be worse, you know."

"How?"

"I mean, I have a work of calligraphy over my toilet that reads, 'Bathe yourself daily in the comfort of God's words,' Hazel. I could be way worse." I said, flashing my crooked smile.

"Sounds unsanitary."

"I could be worse."

"You could be worse." Our waiter appeared again.

"Your meal has been paid for by Mr. Peter Van Houten." I smiled.

"This Peter Van Houten fellow ain't half bad."

* * *

Hazel Grace had her arm wrapped around mine as we walked along the canal. The sky was slowly darkening above us. The pink and orange sunset slowly ebbing away. Half a block away from Oranjee, we stopped at a park bench surrounded by old rusty bicycles locked to the bike racks. I was thankful for the break. Although I wasn't showing it, my hip and my only leg were throbbing. I was trying to focus on my breathing. _Come on. Don't give up now._

"I can't believe he's going to tell us tomorrow," Hazel Grace said. I perked up and looked at her. She really did look amazing in that dress. "Peter Van Houten is going to tell us the famously unwritten end to the best book ever." There was awe and wonder in her voice. I smiled.

"Plus he paid for our dinner."

"I keep imagining that he is going to search us for recording devices before he tells us. And then he will sit down between us on the couch in his living room and whisper whether Anna's mom married the Dutch Tulip Man."

"Don't forget Sisyphus the Hamster," I added.

"Right, and also of course what fate awaited Sisyphus the Hamster." She leaned forwards to see into the canal. Her hands resting on her knees. Her hair falling over her eyes. A small smile playing on her lips.

"A sequel that will exist just for us." She said.

"So what's your guess?" I ask.

"I really don't know. I've gone back and forth like a thousand times about it all. Each time I reread it, I think something different, you know?" I nodded, I've done the same but I believed I had a solid theory by now. "You have a theory?" She asked me.

"Yeah. I don't think the Dutch Tulip Man is a con man, but he's also not rich like he leads them to believe. And I think after Anna dies, Anna's mom goes to Holland with him and thinks they will live there forever, but it doesn't work out, because she wants to be near where her daughter was."

Hazel Grace seems surprised by my answer. Probably because she didn't think I cared so much. The water in the canal hit the wall. A group of people rode past on their bikes. I put my arm over and pulled Hazel Grace to my side. Everything was perfect. Hazel Grace leaned into me and I felt a sharp pain in my side. I tried not to react, but I winced.

"Sorry, you okay?" I don't want her to find out. Not yet at least. Now wasn't the time to tell the girl I love that I'm dying. No, now is not the time. I breathed out slowly as the pain disappeared.

"Sorry, bony shoulder." She said.

"It's okay. Nice, actually." We sat there for a very long time. My arm was still wrapped around her, my hand was resting on the park bench. She was still leaning into me but I could tell she wasn't putting her full weight into me.

"Can I ask you about Caroline Mathers?"

Caroline. The first girl I really fell for. Her face appears in my mind. Her long dark hair and her brown eyes. Her smile. Her gorgeous smile. And then I pictured her the day she died. I saw the life leave her. I watched her suffer.

"And you say there's no afterlife," I answered, without looking at her. "But yeah, of course. What do you want to know?" I tried preparing myself for all the questions I would have to answer. Other than Isaac and my parents I haven't really talked about Caroline to anyone.

"Just, like, what happened." Hazel Grace said. I sighed. I popped a cigarette into my mouth and started talking.

"You know how there is famously no place less played in than a hospital playground?" She nodded. I pictured seeing Caroline for the first time. Below my window sitting all alone on that sad little swing.

"Well, I was at Memorial for a couple of weeks when they took off the leg and everything. I was up on the fifth floor and I had a view of the playground, which was always of course utterly desolate. I was all awash in the metaphorical resonance of the empty playground in the hospital courtyard. But then this girl started showing up alone at the playground, every day, swinging on a swing completely alone, like you'd see in a movie or something. So I asked one of my nicer nurses to get the skinny on the girl, and the nurse brought her up to visit, and it was Caroline, and I used my immense charisma to win her over." I paused, remembering that moment.

"You're not that charismatic," Hazel Grace said. I scoffed. "You're mostly just hot." She said. I laughed.

"The thing about dead people," I started saying again. "The thing is you sound like a bastard if you don't romanticize them, but the truth is... complicated, I guess. Like, you are familiar with the trope of the stoic and determined cancer victim who heroically fights her cancer with inhuman strength and never complains or stops smiling even at the very end, etcetera?"

"Indeed. They are kindhearted and generous souls whose every breath is an Inspiration to Us All. They're so strong! We admire the so!" Hazel Grace said.

"Right, but really, I mean aside from us obviously, cancer kids are not statistically more likely to be awesome or compassionate or perseverant or whatever. Caroline was moody and miserable, but I liked it. I liked feeling as if she had chosen me as the only person in the world not to hate, and so we spent all this time together just ragging on everyone, you know? Ragging on the nurses and the other kids and our families and whatever else. But I don't know if that was her or the tumor. I mean, one of her nurses told me once that the kind of tumor Caroline had is known among medical types as the Asshole Tumor, because it just turns you into a monster. So here's this girl missing a fifth of her brain who's just had a recurrence of the Asshole Tumor and so she was not, you know, the paragon of stoic cancer-kid heroism. She was.. I mean, to be honest, she was a bitch. But you can't say that, because she had this tumor, and also she's, I mean, she's dead. And she had plenty of reason to be unpleasant, you know?"

"You know that part in An Imperial Affliction when Anna's walking across the football field to go to P.E or whatever and she falls and goes face-first into the grass and that's when she knows that the cancer is back and in her nervous system and she can't get up and her face is like an inch from the football field grass and she's stuck there looking at this grass up close, noticing the way the light hits it and... I don't remember the line but it's something like Anna having the Whitmanesque revelation that the definition of humanness is the opportunity to marvel at the majesty of creation or whatever. You know that part?"

"I know that part," she said quietly.

"So afterward, while I was getting eviscerated by chemo, for some reason I decided to feel really hopeful. No about survival specifically, but I felt like Anna does in the book, that feeling of excitement and gratitude about just being able to marvel at it all. But meanwhile Caroline got worse every day. She went home after a while and there were moments when I thought we could have, like, a regular relationship, but we couldn't, really, because she had no filter between her thoughts and her speech, which was sad and unpleasant and frequently hurtful. But, I mean, you can't dumpy a girl with a brain tumor. And her parents liked me, and she had this little brother who is a really cool kid. I mean, how can you dump her? She's dying."

"It took forever. It took almost a year, and it was a year of me hanging out with this girl who would, like, just start laughing out of nowhere and point at my prosthetic and call me Stumpy."

"No," Hazel Grace said.

"Yeah. I mean, it was the tumor. It ate her brain, you know? Or it wasn't the tumor. I have no way of knowing, because they were inseparable, she and the tumor. But as she got sicker, I mean, she'd just repeat the same stories and laugh at her own comments even if she'd already said the same thing a hundred times that day. Like, she made the same joke over and over again for weeks: 'Gus has great legs. I mean leg.' And then she would just laugh like a maniac."

"Oh Gus," Hazel Grace said softly. "That's..." There's not much to say. At the time, yeah it did really suck. Having cancer sucks. That's about it. I took the cigarette out of my mouth and looked at it and then put it back in my mouth before I started talking again.

"Well, to be fair, I do have great legs." I said, trying to change the subject. I didn't want to talk about it anymore. I missed Caroline of course but thinking of Caroline made me think of what I was going to put Hazel through when she found out about my relapse.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm really sorry."

"It's all good Hazel Grace. But just to be clear, when I thought I saw Caroline Mathers's ghost in Support Group, I was not entirely happy. I was staring but I wasn't yearning, if you know what I mean." I pulled my pack of cigarettes out of my pocket and placed the cigarette I had now back in the pack.

"I'm sorry." She said again.

"Me too."

"I don't ever want to do that to you." I smiled to myself. Oh you don't have to worry about that Hazel Grace for it is I that am doing it to you.

"Oh, I wouldn't mind, Hazel Grace. It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you."


	13. Chapter 12

**Hey you guys! I'm sorry the updates are becoming less and less frequent :( it's been so busy with work. How is everyone doing? Did you hear they're making Looking For Alaska into a movie? I hope they keep to the story. Out of all of John Green's books Looking For Alaska and Fault in Out Stars were my favorite. What are your favorite John Green books?**

**And did you guys see the Paper Towns movie trailer? What are your thoughts? POST THEM! :D**

**Hope you all like this chapter. Please comment and review! Thanks!**

**~Wallflower95**

* * *

**12**

I woke early the next morning. I'm not going to bother telling how early I woke up because it was just early. I looked around the room in a panic and then I remembered... duh. I'm in Amsterdam and today was the day I'd learn what happens at the end of that god damn book. I can't imagine how Hazel Grace has gone all these years not know what happens at the end of AIA. I can't even wait a few more hours. I throw the covers off my body and start getting dressed. Once that was done there was nothing to do but wait. I paced the room even though it hurt. I could feel my hip throbbing. My one good legs hurt... pain demands to be felt. But I ignored it.

_Just a little bit longer._

I can't be in pain today. Today I had to be there for Hazel Grace. We were going to learn the answers. The answers we've been waiting for. I looked at the clock. It was close to ten. I put my shoes on and opened the door. I couldn't stop thinking about the other night. How amazing Hazel Grace had looked. I wish... I wish I could spend the rest of my time on earth staring at her. She is so beautiful and I wish I could be with her. I sighed. I was standing outside her door. I could hear voices. Mrs. Lancaster's... and Hazel's. I smiled. She sounded... peppy? No that's a stupid word to use. I knocked on the door and it was opened by Hazel Grace herself.

She was wearing her Chuck Taylors on her feet, dark jeans and a light blue t-shirt. On the shirt was a picture of a pipe and below the picture written in French were the words 'This is not a pipe'. I smiled while looking at the shirt. I realized that Hazel Grace dressed as much like Anna from 'An Imperial Affliction' as possible.

"Funny."

"Don't call my boobs funny." Hazel Grace answered.

"Right here." Mrs. Lancaster said from behind Hazel Grace. I could feel myself blush red.

"You're sure you don't want to come?" Hazel Grace asked her mom.

"I'm going to the Rujksmuseum and the Vondelpark today," she said. "Plus, I just don't get his book. No offense. Thank him and Lidewij for us, okay?"

"Okay." Mrs. Lancaster planted a kiss on Hazel Grace's head and away we were.

* * *

Peter Van Houten's home was just around the corner from our hotel, on the Vondelstraat facing the park. I took Hazel Grace's arm and I bent down to grab her oxygen tank. I could feel the cancerous pain in my hip as I bent down for the tank but I gritted my teeth and ignored it. _Not today._

We walked up the three steps to his door. I could feel Hazel Grace nervously clutching my arm. I could feel my own heart pounding in my chest as we approached the door. Inside we could hear a bass beat that practically shook the house. Maybe he has a kid who's into awful music? Hazel Grace grabbed the lion's-head door knocker and knocked tentatively. There was no answer. The beat continued behind the closed door.

"Maybe he can't hear over the music?" I took the lion's-head and knocked louder. The music was cut off. Instead we could hear shuffling footsteps heading towards the door. A dead bolt slid. Another and then the door creaked open to reveal a potbellied man with thin hair, sagging jowls, a disgusting week old beard and sad looking eyes. He wore baby blue man pajamas and his stomach was protruding from under the shirt.

"Mr. Van Houten?"I felt my voice getting higher as I said it. This was not the way I imagined the genius author of AIA to look like. The door slammed shut. Behind the door we heard an awful sounding voice yell, "LEE-DUH-VIGH!" (To be honest I really didn't learn how to pronounce his assistant's name.)

"Are they hear, Peter?" A woman's voice asked.

"There are- Lidewij, there are two adolescent apparitions outside the door."

"Apparitions?" She asked in her Dutch accent. Van Houten spat out the rest.

"Phantasms specters ghouls visitants post terrestrials apparitions, Lidewij. How can someone pursuing postgraduate degree in American literature display such abominable English-language skills?"

"Peter, those are not post-terrestrials. They are Augustus and Hazel, the young fans with whom you have been corresponding."

"They are- what? They-I thought they were in America!"

"Yes, but you invited them here, you will remember."

"Do you know why I left America, Lidewij? So that I would never again have to encounter Americans."

"But you are American."

"Incurably so, it seems. But as to these Americans, you must tell them to leave at once, that there has been a terrible mistake, that the blessed Peter Van Houten was making a rhetorical offer to meet, not an actual one, that such offers must be read symbolically." I say Hazel's face out of the corner of my eyes. She looked like she was about to be sick and not the cancer kind of sick. Me? I could feel everything sink. All my hopes of ever learning the truth of what happened at the end of AIA before I die, all of that was gone.

"I will not do this, Peter." Lidewij answered. "You must meet them. You must. You need to see them. You need to see how your work matters."

"Lidewij, did you knowingly deceive me to arrange this?"

A long and awful silence fell and then finally the door opened again. Van Houten turned his head from me to Hazel.

"Which of you is Augustus Waters?" You'd think that'd be self explanatory. Obviously no one in their right mind would name a girl Augustus. I usually have something smart to say to a guy like this but I couldn't open my mouth. I raised my hand to let him know that I was Augustus Waters.

"Did you close the deal with that chick yet?" He asked, referring to Hazel Grace. I thought I was going to die of embarrassment right there.

"I," I cleared my throat. "um, I, Hazel, um. Well."

"This boy appears to have some kind of developmental delay." Peter said.

"Peter." Lidewij scolded.

"Well," Peter Van Houten said. "It is at any rate a pleasure to meet such ontologically improbable creatures." We both shook hands with him. What the hell does ontologically mean? After corresponding with Van Houten via email I believed him to be highly sophisticated, rich, polite and intelligent. Walking through his home I saw the past of a man who had so much but did nothing with it. It was so... empty and lonely. I saw two giant black garbage bags that looked as if they were about to burst.

"Trash?" Hazel Grace mumbled to me.

"Fan mail," Van Houten answered as he sat down rather ungracefully into a seat. "Eighteen years' worth of it. Can't open it. Terrifying. Yours are the first missives to which I have replied, and look where that got me. I frankly find the reality of readers wholly unappetizing." Every word that came out of his mouth made me want yell at him. I looked back at the forgotten mail of all his fans, remembering that Hazel Grace had written him some letters years ago. They were lost somewhere. Forgotten.

"Would you care for some breakfast?" Lidewij asked.

"It is far too early for breakfast, Lidewij." Peter said.

"Well, they are from America, Peter, so it is past noon in their bodies."

"Then it's too late for breakfast," he said. "However, it being after noon in the body and whatnot, we should enjoy a cocktail. Do you drink Scotch?" He asked us.

"Do I- um, no, I'm fine." Hazel Grace said.

"Augustus Waters?"

"Uh, I'm good."

"Just me, then, Lidewij. Scotch and water, please." Peter turned his attention to me.

"You know how we make Scotch and water in this home?"

"No, sir."

"We pour Scotch into a glass and then call to mind thoughts of water, and then we mix the actual Scotch with the abstracted idea of water." I realized then that all my hopes for a smart and sophisticated author to tell me what happens to everyone at the end of AIA was just wishful thinking. Peter Van Houten was not that. He was and is a drunk.

"Perhaps a bit of breakfast first, Peter." Lidewij said.

"She thinks I have a drinking problem." _Gee, you think buddy?_

"And I think that the sun has risen," Lidewij said. And without another word she turned to the bar and poured some Scotch into a glass. She handed him the glass and Van Houten sat up straight in his chair.

"A drink this good deserves one's best posture." He said. I noticed that Hazel Grace sat a little straight beside me. She rearranged her cannula.

"So you like my book." Peter Van Houten directed at me.

"Yeah," Hazel Grace spoke up. "And yes, we- well, Augustus, he made meeting you his Wish so that we could come here and , so that you could tell us what happens after the end of An Imperial Affliction." He said nothing, he just took another long sip from the glass in his hand.

"Your book is sort of the thing that brought us together." I said.

"But you aren't together." He said, looking at Hazel.

"The thing that brought us nearly together." Hazel Grace corrected. Van Houten then looked Hazel Grace up and down. Something changed in his eyes.

"Did you dress like her on purpose?"

"Anna?" He just kept staring at her.

"Kind of." He took another long sip.

"I do not have a drinking problem." He announced. "I have a Churchillian relationship with alcohol: I can crack jokes and govern England and do anything I want to do. Except not drink." He glanced over at Lidewij and nodded toward his glass. I swear I saw Lidewij roll her eyes and then she took the glass and filled it with more Scotch.

"Just the idea of water, Lidewij."

"Yah, got it." She said. The second drink came and Van Houten sat up straight once again. He kicked off his slippers to reveal horrible looking feet.

"Well, um," Hazel Grace started again. "first, we do want to say thank you for dinner last night and-"

"We bought them dinner last night?" Van Houten interrupted.

"Yes, at Oranjee." Lidewij answered.

"Ah, yes. Well, believe me when I say that you do not have me to thank but rather Lidewij, who is exceptionally talented in the field of spending my money."

"It was our pleasure." Lidewij said.

"Well, thanks, at any rate." I could feel frustration building inside my chest.

"So here I am." Van Houten said. "What are your questions?"

"Um." Why can't I speak?

"He seemed so intelligent in print," Van Houten said. "Perhaps the cancer has established a beachhead in his brain."

"Peter."

What an asshole.

"We do have some questions, actually," Hazel Grace spoke up before I could spit something out. " I talked about them in my email. I don't know if you remember."

"I do not."

"His memory is compromised." Lidewij said.

No wonder.

"If only my memory would compromise." Van Houten responded in a sad and disappointed tone. What was so terrible that he wanted to forget?

"So, our questions." Hazel Grace repeated.

"She uses the royal we." He took another sip of Scotch. I've tried Scotch before. It was awful and it burned your throat. It made me gag. I didn't know how Van Houten could drink so much in such little time.

"Are you familiar with Zeno's tortoise paradox?" He asked Hazel. What...

"We have questions about what happens to the characters after the end of the book, specifically Anna's-" But Hazel was interrupted once again.

"You wrongly assume that I need to hear your question in order to answer it. You are familiar with the philosopher Zeno?" She shook her head. "Alas. Zeno was a pre-Socratic philosopher who is said to have discovered forty paradoxes within the worldview put forth by Parmenides-surely you know Parmenides," he said, and Hazel Grace nodded. "Thank God," he said. "Zeno professionally specialized in revealing the inaccuracies and oversimplifications of Parmenides, which wasn't difficult, since Parmenides was spectacularly wrong everywhere and always. Parmenides is valuable in precisely the way it is valuable to have an acquaintance who reliably picks the wrong horse each time and every time you take him to the racetrack. But Zeno's most important -wait, give me a sense of your familiarity of Swedish hip-hop."

Is this guy high? I see Hazel Grace from the corner of my eye. He as been talking a majority of the time and not once has he mentioned anything about the characters from An Imperial Affliction. He was talking about something I didn't even understand and now he's talking about Swedish hip-hop. But I can't lose it. Why? Because he holds all the answers. I know it and so does Hazel Grace.

"Limited." I said.

"Okay, but presumably you know Afasi och Filthy's seminal album Flacken."

"We do not." Hazel Grace said for the both of us.

"Lidewij, play 'Bomfalleralla' immediately." Lidewij hit a button on the MP3 player and from every direction the room boom an awful sounding Swedish rap song. Van Houten's head bobbed to the music as Hazel Grace and I sat awkwardly on the couch. After it was over, Peter Van Houten looked at us waiting our review of the song.

"Yeah?" He asked. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but we don't speak Swedish." Hazel Grace said.

"Well, of course you don't. Neither do I. Who the hell speaks Swedish? The important thing is not whatever the voices are saying, what the voices are feeling. Surely you know that there are only two emotions, love and fear, and that Afasi och Filthy navigate between them with the kind of facility that one simply does not find in hip-hop music outside of Sweden. Shall I okay it for you again?"

"Are you joking?" I blurted out loud. He must be joking. The image of Peter Van Houten I had in my head was disappearing before my eyes. He was nothing like the man I thought he was going to be. I came all this way for nothing. And then, I saw Hazel Grace beside me. She has waited for so long. She truly believes she will never hear the ending of this story. She came here for answers and damn well she was going to get them.

"Pardon?"

"Is this some kind of performance?" I looked over at Lidewij. "Is it?"

"I'm afraid not," she answered. "He's not always-this is unusually-"

"Oh, shut up, Lidewij. Rudolf Otto said that if you had not encountered the numinous, if you have not experienced a nonrational encounter with the mysterium tremendum, then his work was not for you. And I say you, young friends, that if you cannot hear Afasi och Filthy's bravadic response to fear, then my work is not for you."

It's just like any other god damn rap song...

"Um," Hazel Grace started. "So about An Imperial Affliction. Anna's mom, when the book ends, is about to-" But he cut her off... again.

"So Zeno is most famous for his tortoise paradox. Let us imagine you are in a race with a tortoise. The tortoise has a ten-yard head start. In the time it takes you to run that ten yards, the tortoise has maybe moved one yard. And then in the time it takes you to make up that distance, the tortoise goes a bit farther, and so on forever. You are faster than the tortoise but you can never catch him; you can only decrease his lead. Of course, you just run past the tortoise without contemplating the mechanics involved , but the question of how you are able to this turns out to be incredibly complicated, and no one really solved it until Cantor showed us that some infinities are bigger than other infinities."

"Um."

"I assume that answers your question." Van Houten said confidently as he leaned back and sipped from his Scotch.

"Not really," she said. "We were wondering, after the end of An Imperial Affliction-"

"I disavow everything in that putrid novel." I was about to spit out some rude comment but Hazel Grace beat me to it."

"No." Her tone completely changed.

"Excuse me?"

"No, that is not acceptable." She was staring right at him with her intense green eyes. "I understand that the story ends mid-narrative because Anna dies or becomes too sick to continue, but you said you would tell us what happens to everybody, and that's why we're here, and we, _I_ need you to tell me." She finished.

Van Houten sighed.

"Very well. Whose story do you seek?" Finally.

"Anna's mom, the Dutch Tulip Man, Sisyphus the Hamster, I mean, just- what happens to everyone." Van Houten closed his eyes and puffed out his cheeks like a child. It like it pained him to even speak about his long last characters. The ones he first wrote about all those years ago. I leaned forwards in my seat.

"The hamster," he started. "The hamster gets adopted by Christine." That makes sense. Christine was one of Anna's best friends in the book. That's one down. "He is adopted by Christine and lives for a c"ouple years after the end of the novel and dies peacefully in his hamster sleep."

"Great," Hazel Grace said with a weak smile on her face. "Great. Okay, so the Dutch Tulip Man. Is he a con man? Do he and Anna's mom get married?" But we already lost Van Houten again. He was staring up at the ceiling with his nearly empty glass of Scotch.

"Lidewij, I can't do it. I can't. I can't." He looked back at Hazel Grace.

"Nothing happens to the Dutch Tulip Man. He isn't a con man or not a con man; he's God. He's an obvious and unambiguous metaphorical representation of God, and asking what becomes of him is the intellectual equivalent of asking what becomes of the disembodied eyes of Dr. T.J Eckleburg in Gatsby. Do he and Anna's mom get married? We are speaking of a novel, dear child, not some historical enterprise."

"Right, but surely you must have thought about what happens to them, I mean as characters, I mean independent of their metaphorical meanings or whatever." Hazel Grace was getting frustrated again and so was I.

"They're fictions," he said, tapping at his glass. "Nothing happens to them."

"You said you'd tell me." Hazel Grace insisted. I saw the plea in her eyes but I also saw anger. A thirst for answers she may never live to hear.

"Perhaps, but what I was under the misguided impression that you were incapable of transatlantic travel. I was trying... to provide you some comfort, I suppose, which I should know better than to attempt. But to be perfectly frank, this childish idea that the author of a novel has some special insight into the characters in the novel... it's ridiculous. That novel was composed of scratches on a page, dear. The characters inhabiting it have no life outside of those scratches. What happened to them? They all ceased to exist the moment the novel ended."

My hands were balled up into fists. My heart was pounding. An author I came to admire while reading his book was crushing everything... everything I had read. Can you imagine how that feels? It's like he took An Imperial Affliction out of my own hands, tore it up in pieces, stomped on it and said it was all pointless and a waste of time.

"No," Hazel Grace said. She pushed herself off the couch and stood up, looking down at the sad old man. "No, I understand that, but it's impossible not to imagine a future for them. You are the most qualified person to imagine that future. Something happened to Anna's mother. She either got married or didn't. She either moved to Holland with the Dutch Tulip Man or didn't. She either had more kids or didn't. I need to know what happens." Van Houten pursed his lips.

"I regret that I cannot indulge your childish whims, but I refuse to pity you in the manner to which you are well accustomed."

"I don't want your pity." She spat.

"Like all sick children," he answered. "you say you don't want pity, but your very existence depends on it."

"Peter." Lidewij said, but he continued.

"Sick children inevitably become arrested: You are fated to live out your days as the child you were when diagnosed, the child who believes there is life after a novel ends. And we, as adults, we pity this, so we pay for your treatments, for your oxygen machines. We give you food and water though you are unlikely to live long enough-"

"PETER!" Lidewij exclaimed in horror.

"You are a side effect," Van Houten continued. "of an evolutionary process that cares little for individual lives. You are a failed experiment in mutation."

"I RESIGN!" Lidewij shouted, but Van Houten didn't seem to hear her words. He just stared at Hazel Grace and Hazel Grace stared back at him. I was furious. I was ready to knock the old man on his sorry lazy ass. How dare he tell us what we already know? I've been to the doctors enough to know I was a failed experiment all along. And now I know that I won't get long until I bite it. And to say all this to Hazel? To the person who has been poked and prodded by doctors. To be terminal since diagnosis? But she wasn't angry. She didn't like as angry as I felt. She stood up straight and glared down at Van Houten.

"Listen, douchepants," she said. "you're not going to tell me anything about a disease I don't already know. I need one and only one thing from you before I walk out of your life forever: WHAT HAPPENS TO ANNA'S MOTHER?!"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"I can no more tell you what happens to her than I can tell you what becomes of Proust's Narrator or Holden Caulfield's sister or Huckleberry's Finn after he lights out out for the territories."

"BULLSHIT! That's bullshit. Just tell me. Make something up!"

"No, and I'll thank you not to curse in my house. It isn't becoming of a lady."

Hazel Grace took a deep breath and knocked the glass of Scotch out of Van Houten's hand. What remained of the Scotch splashed onto his face.

"Lidewij," Van Houten said calmly. "I'll have a martini, if you please. Just a whisper of vermouth."

"I have resigned." Lidewij said.

"Don't be ridiculous."

Neither of us knew what to do. Hazel Grace was still standing glaring down at Van Houten. I was still sitting with my fists in my lap, speechless.

"Have you ever stopped to wonder," Van Houten started, his words starting to slurr. "why you care so much about your silly questions?"

"YOU PROMISED!" Hazel Grace screamed. And I remembered Isaac repeating that same word over and over again the night of the broken trophies. It wasn't because Van Houten promised. It's not even because I was dying and that I would never knowing what happens at the end of that damn book. I needed to know... for her. For Hazel Grace. Because Hazel Grace believes she is a grenade and she believes that explode one day and she's afraid of never knowing and of hurting people. If she's going to be a grenade then I will be her Max Mayhem. I will throw myself over the grenade and save her.

Hazel Grace still stood there waiting for Van Houten to spill all the answers she's been waiting for. I couldn't let Van Houten ruin this for her. I stood up and slipped my hand into hers and pulled her by her arm... away from the man who had the answers we would never learn. Lidewij started shouting at Van Houten in fast Dutch.

"You'll have to forgive my former assistant," he said. "Dutch is not so much a language as an ailment of the throat. I pulled Hazel Grace out of the room and we headed toward the door, out into the late spring morning and the falling confetti of the elms.

* * *

We were heading back to the hotel when Hazel Grace started crying. We stopped and I set her cart down to touch her waist.

"Hey. It's okay." I said softly. She nodded and wiped her face.

"He sucks." I said. She nodded again. I just held and she cried into my shoulder. I put on my famous crooked smile.

"I'll write you an epilogue," I said. She started crying harder. "I will," I said. " I will. Better than any shit that drunk could write. His brain is Swiss cheese. He doesn't even remember writing the book. I can write ten times the story that guy can. There will be blood and guts and sacrifice. An Imperial Affliction meets The Price of Dawn. You'll love it." I held her close, never wanting to let her go.

"I spent your Wish on that doucheface." She cried.

"Hazel Grace. No. I will grant that you did spend my one and only Wish, but you did not spend it on him. You spent it on us." Wow that sounded like a line right of a teen romance movie. And then I hear a click clack plonk on the sidewalk. The sound of someone running in heels. It was Lidewij, her eyeliner running down her cheeks.

"Perhaps we should go to the Anne Frank Huis." She said.

"I'm not going anywhere with that monster." I spat out.

"He is not invited." Lidewij said. I looked down at Hazel whom I was still holding. Her eyes were slightly red from the crying.

"I don't think-"

"We should go." Hazel Grace spoke up. She looked at me. Her green fathomless eyes. She just had her day ruined by a guy she had admired for years. She would never learn what happens to any of the characters and yet... she still wants to keep going. She may not know it but she is the bravest and strongest person I know. I nodded.

"Okay?"

"Okay."


	14. Chapter 13

**Hey everyone! Really sorry about these updates. I'm trying my best. So what do you guys think of the Paper Towns trailer? I thought it looked pretty good and I'm hoping the movie will be good. Did you hear about Looking for Alaska being a movie? Which are you looking forward to see more, Paper Towns or Looking for Alaska? Comment and share your thoughts! And please review. Hope you like the chapter! Until next time :)**

**Okay?**

**~Wallflower95**

* * *

**13**

We climbed into Lidewij's clunky looking gray fiat with an engine that sounded like a little kid wailing. As we drove through Amsterdam, Lidewij apologized for Peter's behavior.

"I am very sorry. There is no excuse. He is very sick," she said. "I thought meeting you would help him, if he would see that his work has shaped real lives, but... I'm very sorry. It is very embarrassing." But neither of us were paying attention, or even speaking to her. I was just staring out the window. Looking at the canal and wondering what life would be like if you lived on the water.

"I have continued this work because I believe he is a genius and because the pay is good, but he has become a monster." Lidewij said.

"I guess he got pretty rich on that book." Hazel Grace spoke up in the back.

"Oh, no, no, he is of the Van Houten's," she said. "In the seventeenth century, his ancestor discovered how to mix cocoa into water. Some Van Houtens moved to the United States long ago, and Peter is of those, but he moved to Holland after his novel. He is an embarrassment to a great family." Lidewij said. The car engine screamed and I looked out the window again. I had this feeling, a feeling that Van Houten may have run away from something. Something painful.

"It is circumstance. Circumstance has made him so cruel. He is not an evil man. But this day, I did not think- when he said these terrible things. I could not believe it. I am very sorry. Very very sorry."

But I'm not listening anymore because no matter how many times you say sorry it won't change the past. I stare out at the canal below us wondering if maybe it was something in Van Houten's past, something that made him so cruel. So withdrawn from society.

* * *

We had to park a block away from the Anne Frank house. My hip was starting to throb and my leg hurt. I felt sweat dripping from my forehead. Ignore the pain. I told myself. I wiped my forehead. I had to get through this. Hazel Grace was sitting on a bench. I was standing up rolling her little card in lazy circles, just watching the wheels spin. The wheels are like life, it just going and going and going. Hazel Grace was just staring at the ground, probably still recovering from our encounter with the Great Van Houten.

"Okay?" I asked. She shrugged and reached for my calf, well, my fake calf.

"I wanted..." She said.

"I know," I said. "Apparently the world is not a wish-granting factory." That made smile a little bit and despite all the pain that was demanding to be felt, her smile made me happy. Lidewij returned with the tickets but she had a look on her face that expressed disappointment.

"There is no elevator," she said. "I am very very sorry."

"It's okay." Hazel Grace said.

"No, there are many stairs," Lidewij said. "Steep stairs."

"It's okay." Hazel Grace repeated in a determined tone. I tried to speak, saying maybe we should go another time. I doubt her at all. I know she can do it. But what if I can't? What if she finds out that I'm relapsing? That I am the ticking bomb she never wanted to be?

"It's okay. I can do it." She said to me. Her green eyes were burning bright. Determination was set on her face. I nodded and we went into the building. It was hard to believe that I was standing in the house that Anne Frank once lived. Once hid in. It was a slow and painful process walking up the stairs. Every time I moved my leg it throbbed even more. The only thing that that kept me going was watching Hazel Grace walk up those stairs before me. She was tired and breathing hard but she was so strong. So brave. She kept going and I followed.

I felt like I was being watched and judged by everyone else behind me. It was the same feeling I had been trying to avoid at the airport before coming here to Amsterdam. But I kept. I kept going because I'm need to. For Hazel.

Hazel Grace had sat down at the top of the stairs. Everyone else walked past us. I came up beside her and wiped the sweat from my forehead. I was in so much pain. It was indescribable... but I gritted my teeth and ignore it because it's me and Hazel Grace. I have to keep going for her. I would be her Max Mayhem.

"You're a champion." I said. But we were so out of breath neither of us said anything for the next few minutes. Once we had recovered, I helped Hazel Grace onto her feet and looked around. We were in the room Anne had shared with Fritz Pfeffer the dentist. Still pasted to the wall were yellowing pictures of magazines and newspaper clippings. I touched one gently. She could have had so much ahead of her if she been born in another time or another country.

We went up another staircase. A staircase that led up to where the Van Pels had lived. It was steeper than the last one. Hazel Grace paused on the staircase.

"Let's go back." I breathed.

"I'm okay." She practically whispered. I couldn't tell what she was thinking but I knew she was going to give up. She was going to climb all of these stairs no matter what. She crawled up the stairs like a little kid. People behind us were waiting patiently. I admired her so much. She just kept going. When we finally reached the top, my chest was heaving. Every breath hurt. My chest felt tight and my leg had gone numb. Hazel Grace was on the ground, coughing hard but I could see the a hint of a smile on her face despite all the pain. Lidewij crouched down beside her.

"You are at the top, that is it." Hazel Grace nodded. All the people who had been behind us were at the top glancing at us with worried expressions on their faces. Probably thinking we were going to drop dead any moment. Once I could actually breathe, Lidewij and I pulled Hazel Grace to her feet. That's when I noticed something on the wall that was protected by a glass case. I got a better look and my stomach was tied in not. There were a bunch of lines on the wall with names of the children who had lived in the Annex. They went all the way up until they would never grow again. These kids could have had so much more but they had to live back then. Imagine your life ending right in the middle. In the middle of something great. In the middle of a sentence.

We were walking down a hallway with a picture of each member of the Annex. Describing how and where they died.

"The only member of his whole family who survived the war," Lidewij said, referring to Otto Frank.

"But he didn't survive a war, not really." I said. "He survived a genocide."

"True. I do not know how you go on, without your family. I do not know." As she said that, I wondered how my family would go after I died. Would they be driven to depression? Would the mourn me until they die? How would Hazel Grace take it? I don't want anyone to be said when I die. It would hurt me. But that the thing about pain, it is always demanding to be felt. At the end of the hallway there is a list of names of all the Jews who were killed during the Holocaust. Right underneath Anne Frank's name were four Aron Franks. All these people and they had nothing to be remembered by. They were forgotten and lost.

When I go I don't want to be forgotten. I want to be remembered. I want to leave my mark. I want to be remembered by the people I cared about.

I saw Anne Frank's picture. She looked so young. How did it feel? To almost make it through the war and then die weeks before the end? She could have made it. She could have survived. Her father could have had his daughter. She could have made it.

Hazel Grace looked at me.

"You okay?" She asked me. I nodded.

"The worst part is that she almost lived, you know? She died weeks away from liberation." Lidewij had walked away to watch a video. Hazel Grace took my hand and continued down the hallway.

"Are there any Nazis left that I could hunt down and bring to justice?" I asked as we leaned over to view the many letters Otto had sent out inquiring about his family's whereabouts.

"I think they're all dead. But it's not like the Nazis had a monopoly on evil."

"True. That's what we should do, Hazel Grace: We should team up and be this disabled vigilante duo roaring through the world, righting wrongs, defending the weak, protecting the endangered." She smiled.

"Our fearlessness shall be our secret weapon."

"The tales of our exploits will survive as long as the human voice itself." I said.

"And even after that, when the robots recall the human absurdities of sacrifice and compassion, they will remember us."

"They will robot-laugh at our courageous folly," I said. "But something in their iron hearts will yearn to have lived and died as we did: on the hero's errand."

"Augustus Waters." She said as she looked up at me. Have I mentioned that I love her face. I love her messy hair, how it never sits still. I love her sparkling green eyes. I love that pipe shirt on her. I love those chuck taylors on her feet. I love how she climbed all of those stairs and she didn't give up once.

I wonder if you could get arrested for kissing in the Anne Frank House. I mean, this is a place of... well, I'm not sure. I mean, people lived here and hid from the Nazis. But then, I think that our friend Anne Frank would appreciate the fact that people kissed and fell in love in the place she believed was full of sorrow and fear. After all, Anne Frank herself kissed someone in the Anne Frank House, so why not us?

"I must say," Otto Frank's voice said on the video. "I was very much surprised by the deep thoughts Anne had." And then I reached down and gently pulled her towards me. It's like everything around us melted away and it was just us. Just me and Hazel Grace. She reached for my neck and I pulled her up by her waist so she was standing on her toes. I was breathless. I wonder if this is how you're supposed to feel. All that pain I was feeling disappeared. I suddenly felt like I could do anything. I felt like a normal guy. Cancer free.

"It was quite a different Anne I had known as my daughter. She never really showed this kind of inner feeling," Otto Frank continued. "And my conclusion is since I had been in very good terms with Anne, that most parents don't know really their children." Hazel Grace's eyes opened and I was just staring at her. It was a few moments before I realized that everyone in the room had their eyes on us. And I truly believed this is they part we'd get arrested for illegal smooching in a sacred place. Hazel Grace pulled away from me. I wish she hadn't. I felt the absence immediately. She stared down at her shoes, her cheeks turning bright red. I tried not to look at the crowd. And then they started clapping. Wait, what? I looked up and everyone in the room was clapping. I even heard people cheering 'Bravo!' I smiled and bowed before them. Hazel Grace laughed and curtsied.

Thank God there was an elevator. My legs felt like jelly. When we got downstairs into the gift shop we saw a page of Anne's diary and also her book of unpublished quotations. It was turned to a Shakespeare quote:

_For who so firm that cannot be seduced?_

I don't believe in signs but maybe that's what it was.


	15. Chapter 14

**Hey everyone! I'm sorry about this update. Work and school have been crazy busy. How is everyone? I hope you like the chapter. Please comment and review. I appreciate all your support and feedback :)**

**Okay?**

**~Wallflower95**

* * *

**14**

There was a light set of rain, a drizzle coming down when we were dropped of at the hotel. Lidewij drove away in her little fiat. We stood at the side of the road in front of the hotel. I'll admit it. I wanted to kiss Hazel Grace again. I really did but I didn't want to force it if she wasn't comfortable.

"You probably need some rest." I said.

"I'm okay." She said, without looking at me.

"Okay." I paused.

"What are you thinking about?"

"You."

"What about me?"

"'I do not know which to prefer, / The beauty of inflections / Or the beauty of innuendos, / The blackbird whistling / Or just after.'" God I love her. I want to melt every time she opened her mouth. I wanted to take her into my arms and kiss her. I love Hazel Grace.

"God, you are sexy."

"We could go to your room."

"I've heard worse ideas."

* * *

Would I, Augustus Waters, ever make out with a girl in one of the most amazing cities in Europe? Maybe... well, yeah. We are in the elevator, heading up to my room and I am nervous because I realize she will see it. What was once my leg but is now a stump. What if she didn't lve me back because of it? Should I prepare her?

She leaned towards me and kissed me. I smiled against her lips and that's when I noticed her reflection in the mirror. There were so many Hazels in the mirror. I pulled away and pointed at her reflection.

"Look, infinite Hazels."

"Some infinities are larger than other infinities." She said, lowering her voice to mimic Van Houten. I shook my head.

"What and assclown." The elevator lurched to a halt and the doors slid open. I pushed the elevator doors open, then I suddenly felt pain in my arm. A sharp and screaming cancer pain. I tried not to yell out. Instead I winced and I lost grip on the door. I don't want her to know yet. I know I should tell her because I'm not sure I can make it through this time. But I don't want her to know tonight. Tonight... I want it to be her night. I want it all to be about her... not me.

"You okay?" She asked me. I breathed slowly. Ignoring the pain.

"Yeah, yeah, door's just heavy, I guess." I will tell her soon. I pushed again and I got the door open. I let her walk out first. I don't want her to see the pain written on my face. I tried to mask it. To hide it. Pain will always demand to be felt... but not tonight. Hazel Grace stopped and looked back at me.

"Okay?"

"Just out of shape, Hazel Grace. All is well." We both stood in the hallway. We were both probably wondering if this was a good idea. If this is really what we should do. I don't want to scare her so I opened my mouth.

"It's above my knee," I said, telling her what my stump looked like. "and it just tapers a little and then it's just skin. There's a nasty scar, but it just looks like-"

"What?"

"My leg. Just so you're prepared in case, I mean in case you see it or what-"

"Oh get over yourself." It too her two steps to reach me. Two steps for her lips to be against mine. She kept kissing me as a I fumbled for my room key.

* * *

We crawled into. I pulled off my shirt and she put her lips against my skin.

"I love you, Augustus Waters." To hear her saying that... that's all I need. I may not make it through this. I may perish in this battle but at least I can say that I have truly loved someone and someone loved me. I relax. I reach down and try to pull her shirt off, only to get it tangled in her tubes. Her laugh echoed in the room and it was one of the most beautiful sounds I have ever heard.

"How do you do this every day?" I asked as she untangles her tubes. She wearing pink underwear and a purple bra. I love how they don't match and she doesn't seem to care. She crawled back under the covers. I took off my jeans... and then my leg.

We're lying next to each other on our backs. She reaches for my thigh and lets her hand trail down towards my stump. I flinch. There is a little bit of pain but I flinched mostly because someone was touching it. The place where my leg used to be. Caroline never did that.

"It hurts?"

"No." I said. I flipped onto my side and kissed her

"You're so hot." She said, her hand still on my leg.

"I'm starting to think you have an amputee fetish." I said, still kissing her. She laughed.

"I have an Augustus Waters fetish."

I'm not sure how it's supposed to feel the first time. Is it supposed to hurt? No. It didn't. It was slow, patient, different and new. Maybe it was hours later or maybe it wasn't. Her head is resting against my chest. Her breathing is slowly. I can feel my heart pounding and I am so so tired.

"Hazel Grace, I literally cannot keep my eyes open." I didn't want to fall asleep. I wanted to stay awake with her. I wish I had more time...

"Misuse of literality."

"No... so. Tired." Darkness took over my vision. My head fell to the side and I still felt her head against my chest. Her fingers laced through mine. I wish moments like this could last forever. I wish I had forever to love Hazel Grace.

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, Hazel Grace was gone and a piece of the hotel stationery lay on the bedside table with the same diagram that I once asked her to draw.

I laughed and lay back down. My chest was hurting. It felt tight, as if someone was standing on top of me with stiletto heels on. I winced and closed my eyes. Sometimes bad things just happen to people who don't deserve it. I wish I had never had cancer. I wish I could have been a normal guy. I wish I could live forever. I wish I could love Hazel Grace forever. But I don't have forever. I need to tell her. She deserves to know.


	16. Chapter 15

**Hey everyone! I'm so sorry it's been some time since I updated. So who is going to see Paper Towns the movie?! I cannot wait until it comes out :) I hope you all like this chapter! More to come very very soon (hopefully). Please comment and review I appreciate all feedback!**

**Okay?**

**~Wallflower95**

* * *

**15**

Today is our last full day in Amsterdam. As I walk through Vondelpark I can't help but think of all things I will miss out if I do end up... you know. The things I would miss out on and the things I haven't done or completed. I haven't left my mark. We found a small cafe with amazing food right next to the Dutch national film museum. A had coffee although it was more milk than coffee. In the cafe we recounted the our encounter with the great Mr. Peter Van Houten. It was a sugarcoated version as we did not want to explain the whole "Hazel yelling at an old drunk guy" part. Sometimes, stories don't always have to be sad and disappointing. That's why we made our version funny. We were acting it all out for Mrs. Lancaster.

"Get up, you fat ugly old man!" Hazel Grace said.

"Did you call him ugly?" I asked, holding in laughs.

"Just go with it." She said with a smile.

"I'm naht uggy. You're the uggy one, nosetube girl." I said in a slurred version of Van Houten's speech.

"You're a coward!" Hazel Grace rumbled. I couldn't contain it anymore. I broke out in laughter and Hazel Grace sat down with a triumphant smile on her face. We also told Mrs. Lancaster about the Anne Frank House minus the superman of all kisses.

"Did you go back to chez Van Houten afterward?" She asked us. I noticed Hazel Grace's cheeks turn red. I smiled.

"Nah, we just hung out at a cafe. Hazel amused me with some Venn diagram humor." I glanced over at her and flashed my lopsided grin. Her cheeks turned bright red. God, she is hot.

"Sounds lovely," Mrs. Lancaster said. "Listen, I'm going to go for a walk. Give the two of you tie to talk," she looked at me when she said that. I swallowed nervously. This whole trip I felt like Mrs. Lancaster knew about my relapse. My mom probably told her. "Then maybe later we can go for a tour on a canal boat."

"Um, okay?" Hazel Grace said, sounding a little confused. Mrs. Lancaster leaned forwards and kissed the top of Hazel Grace's head.

"I love love love you." And she was gone. I tried to breathe. She needs to know. She thinks she's the grenade but she's not. I am. I waved my hand down to the shadows of the branches.

"Beautiful, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Such a good metaphor." I mumbled.

"Is it now?"

"The negative image of things blown together and then blown apart." I said. I got distracted by the shadows of the branches. This was going to be the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I hate my cancer. Not because it's killing me but the fact that it's hurting the people I love most.

"I could look at this all day, but we should go to the hotel." I finally said.

"Do we have time?" She asked me. I smiled sadly. There is never enough time in the world.

"If only." I said.

"What's wrong?" I couldn't reply. I took her hand and lead her back towards the hotel. We walked in silence and I could sense her nerves. She knew something was wrong. Soon we arrived at her room. She sat down on the bed. I took my spot on the dusty old chair in the room. She held her hands, looking down at the ground. I took a deep breath and put a cigarette in my mouth to keep my calm. It's now or never.

"Just before you went into the ICU, I started to feel this ache in my hip."

"No." She said. I looked into her eyes. I saw the panic. The pain.

"So I went for a PET scan." I pulled the cigarette out and clenched my teeth. Yes, this is a horrible thing that has happened to me. But I remind myself every day that others always have it worse. I tried to make it better by flashing her my crooked smile.

"I lit up like a Christmas tree, Hazel Grace. The lining of my chest, my left hip, my liver. Everywhere." I couldn't look at Hazel Grace now. What if she saw me differently. I was no longer the charming guy she met in a stupid cancer support group. I am not that grenade she was talking about there was now way anyone could stop my destruction.

Everywhere. It's a good and bad word. For example, if you said there were puppies everywhere that would make me crack a smile but if you say cancer is everywhere then that's a completely different story.

Hazel Grace stood up and dragged her cart towards me. She knelt down and put her head on my lap and hugged my waist. I looked straight forwards and stroked her hair.

"I'm so sorry." She said. What else can you say to a dying man? Congratulations! You're dying of cancer!

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," I said, trying to sound calm but on the inside I was breaking apart. Imagine being told that you had a ninety percent chance of getting out of this and then a year later you found out you're in the unlucky ten percent. It sucks. "Your mom must know. The way she looked at me. My mom must've just told her or something. I should've told you. It was stupid. Selfish."

But I knew that not saying anything was better. Why? Because it was for the same reason she didn't want me to see her in the ICU. She didn't want me to feel her pain but you know what? That's the thing about pain, it demands to be felt.

"It's not fair. It's just so goddamned unfair." I could feel myself breaking apart. Like paper being torn or glass shattering. They always say that cancer patients are so strong and brave and I've tried so hard not to let it beat me but the truth is we are are all freaking terrified. I'm scared shitless. I don't want to die. I want to live. I want to be here and love Hazel Grace. I wanted to live my life.

"The world is not a wish-granting factory." And I broke down for a moment. For one moment I fell apart and let sobs take over. My body shook and for a moment I let all that pain take over. All I wanted was to take Hazel Grace and hug her close. I pulled her towards me until our faces were inches away. There were tears in her green eyes. Her hair was messy and she still had her arms around me.

"I'll fight it. I'll fight it for you. Don't you worry about me, Hazel Grace. I'm okay. I'll find a way to hang around and annoy you for a long time." She was crying now. I held close to me. I never wanted to let go. My arms were wrapped around her.

"I'm sorry. You'll be okay. It'll be okay. I promise." Sometimes though, we can't always keep the promises we make.

* * *

We just laid on the bed and I told her everything. About how the doctors wanted to start chemo days before we had left for Amsterdam. How I gave it up because I had wanted to be here. How my parents had been furious with me and how they tried to stop me the morning we left for Amsterdam.

"We could have rescheduled." She said, although I don't think she truly believed those words.

"No, we couldn't have," I said. "Anyway, it wasn't working. I could tell it wasn't working, you know?" She nodded.

"It's just bullshit, the whole thing." She said.

"They'll try something else when I get home. They've always got a new idea." But I knew nothing would work. I just know, I know that I won't make it through the second time.

"Yeah." Hazel Grace said.

"I kind of conned you into believing you were falling in love with a healthy person." She shrugged.

"I'd have done the same to you."

"No, you wouldn't have, but we can't all be as awesome as you." I kissed her on the cheek and then winced, feeling a sharp pain go through my chest. It will always be there.

"Does it hurt?"

"No. Just." I stared at the ceiling, struggling to find words. I wish this hadn't happened to me. I wish I had never had cancer. I wish I could live forever.

"I like this world. I like drinking champagne. I like not smoking. I like the sound of Dutch people speaking Dutch. And now... I don't even get a battle. I don't get a fight."

"You get to battle cancer," Hazel Grace said. "That is your battle. And you'll keep fighting. You'll... you'll... live your best life today. This is your war now." I appreciate the fact that she's trying to help but what she was saying wasn't true. When I was first diagnosed the doctors always said to me I was in the battle for my life and that I would come out and win. I'm sure everyone with cancer hears that same battle speech. It's a battle with what? Cancer is a part of me. I am made of cancer. Therefore I am battling myself. Some battle.

"Some war. What am I at war with? My cancer. And what is my cancer? My cancer is me. The tumors are made of me. They're made of me as surely as my brain and my heart are made of me. It is a civil war, Hazel Grace, with a predetermined winner."

"Gus..." I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to compose myself.

"Okay. If you go to the Rijksmuseum, which I really wanted to do-but who are we kidding, neither of us can walk through a museum. But anyway, I looked at the collection online before we left. If you were to go, and hopefully someday you will, you would see a lot of paintings of dead people. You'd see Jesus on the cross, and you'd see a dude getting stabbed in the neck and you'd see people dying at sea and in battle and a parade of martyrs. But not. One. Single. Cancer. Kid. Nobody biting it from the plague or smallpox or yellow fever or whatever, because there is no glory in illness. There is no meaning to it. There is no honor in dying _of._"

I'm frustrated. Why? Because I'm going to be Augustus Waters. The kid who tried to beat cancer but failed. My cancer, which is made of me, will be the cause of my death. Hazel Grace was just looking at me.

"What?"

"Nothing... I'm just... I'm just very, very fond of you." I leaned forwards a bit, our noses almost touching and I smiled at her. There was pain in my chest and my hip but I ignored it.

"The feeling is mutual. I don't suppose you can forget about it and treat me like I'm not dying."

"I don't think you're dying," Hazel Grace said. "I think you've just got a touch of cancer." I smiled again. I love her so much and I am so lucky to love her.

"I'm on a roller coaster that only goes up."

"And it is my privilege and my responsibility to ride all the way up with you."

"Would it be absolutely ludicrous to try and make out?"

"There is no try," she said. "only do." God I love her.


End file.
